#will she grow out of it or is this awful superhero stage here to stay

[silverwhittlingknife]

from this real advice column:

i see you person who wrote this sdfsdfdsf

#stephanie brown #at first i wasn't sure and then we got to 'she calls herself spoiler' and then i was sure sdfsdfs #nobody in the comments section seems to have twigged to it which makes it extra-amusing #there you are just having a tiring day at your job (supervillaining) #when your ungrateful teen daughter tries to RUIN IT (stop you from committing all the crime) #will she grow out of it or is this awful superhero stage here to stay #anyway people in the comment section were speculating about what damning details the writer was probably leaving out #however understandably nobody guessed 'crime spree'

[anxresi]

I could line my wall with all the posts Thomas has made about Chloe tonight. (around 50, by my count)

If you wanna read them, don’t bother.

I certainly won’t be sharing any of them

What would be the point?

Because basically, they amount to one thing...

Chloe is bad, and we’re bad people for liking her.

That’s it.

And for anyone thinking that he kids around a lot with his comments...

I’m pretty sure this is something he feels VERY strongly about.

Or he wouldn’t expand so much energy in constantly talking her down.

So no, I don’t think we’re going to get a Chloe redemption.

No, I don’t think she’ll be Queen Bee again. 

No, I can’t see any real change in her behavior.

She’ll just remain the same ol’ hatable Chloe, the ‘evil’ girl that young kids apparently ‘get’ that adults don’t understand...

Yep, apparently we’re ‘dumb’ for wanting her to improve and develop!

To provide a good example for bullies out there that they can be more than just abusers all their lives!

Children couldn’t possibly grasp the delicate subtleties of self-improvement as you grow up!

It’s all so clear now!

Stupid us!

Also, her merchandise doesn’t sell very well.

Another good case for her staying as a villain, I guess.

And she’s compared to a monster and a domestic abuser.

This damaged teenage girl.

Yeah, sounds about right.

And all those tender moments where she showed empathy and love were just ‘fake outs’ all along.

Makes total sense!

And anyone who wanted more from her is just ‘delusional’ and is ‘writing the show in their head’.

Exactly!

Except...

That’s not the way it seemed on screen at all.

When she hugged Miss Bustier

Or had a heart-to-heart with Ladybug

When she risked her life as Queen Bee

Showed genuine concern for Adrien

When she finally appreciated Jean-something

And shared moments of friendship with Sabrina

These did NOT come across as part of an elaborate plot twist

From a show which isn’t exactly known for its complex writing.

They seemed to form part of a ladder...

Which would inevitably climb to a true character shift.

Where this flawed teenage girl could take a long, hard look at her life.

And realize she didn’t HAVE to be like her awful mother.

Or as power-hungry as her father.

She could learn lessons from her favorite superhero Ladybug...

Become a better person...

And an even greater superhero.

She could still keep her sassy attitude.

Just be a bit kinder and selfless, that’s all.

But, nope.

EVERY bit of niceness we witnessed on screen...

None of it was real.

It was all influenced by ‘class’.

Even her childhood friendship with Adrien was nothing.

If he was as poor as the rest of his classmates, she would’ve bullied him too.

Straight from Thomas’s own mouth.

One of the best relationships in the show, gone just. Like. THAT.

He also said to ‘redeem’ her at this stage would be too ‘unconvincing’?

ORLY?

I hate to return to critical mode...

But the show ain’t exactly known for its consistent writing.

One minute Marinette is confident around Adrien...

Next she’s a nervous jumble of words.

It sets up two new ships for Mari and Adrien with great fanfare...

Only to ditch them both two eps later.

(Also, what the **** did they plan to do with Lila?!)

In other words, this isn’t a show that plays the long game

Whether this is to satisfy the networks’ demand to air the eps out of order idk.

The point is that trying to tell us that Chloe’s ‘arc’ was some grand scheme...

Where she’d have a few sympathetic moments only to emerge worst than ever afterwards....

I simply don’t believe it.

Either this is terrible, amateurish writing of the worst kind...

Or Thomas flexed his influence behind the scenes...

And put an abrupt end to Chloe’s development before it really got started.

It doesn’t really matter which reason I guess.

What DOES matter is this petty and spiteful man sees fit to bash her in around 70% of his online interactions right now.

He could just ignore the posts but nope, he goes right in there, full throttle. 

You can just tell how smart he is with his intimate psychological breakdowns of why Chloe is the way she is...

When we all know the actual reason... he just couldn’t be bothered.

Far better to create a whole new character, give her none of the depths that could make a developed Chloe such a pain to write...

And then 'reward’ her with the position of Queen Bee, for being super-sweet and as shallow as a puddle.

And oops, make her Chloe’s half-sister or whatever to further rub salt in Chloe stans’ wounds. 

Is the show even gonna tackle the angst that would arise from Mayor Andre discovering his beloved wife had an affair?

Or Chloe discovering her much-loved mother is in fact a cheat?

What about coping with the SHOCK revelation that she... GASP... has a long-lost sister?

Forget it. All that rich potential for human emotions sounds B O R I N G.

Don’t forget that if there’s a major event in this show that doesn’t include the words ‘Love Square’, the makers just don’t care.

Let’s cut straight to a giant golden Zoe (who now looks like a giant golden Chloe) trying to smoosh her now much smaller sister...

While Chloe pushes Marinette and her parents towards the beast to save herself. 

Because of course she does.

Never misses a trick to make Chloe look bad, does Thomas.

It’s a skill you can tell he’s very proud of.

Anyway, back to Zoe...

Despite my harsh words above, I harbor no ill-will towards you.

Your design is decent and you seem like a stand-up gal.

But I hate to say this...

You shouldn’t exist.

It was completely unnecessary from a storytelling POV to create a sibling for Chloe, and your mere presence will diminish the show.

I can say this with utmost confidence after looking at the situation from every conceivable angle...

Without even needing to watch your eps or know why you were created.

(Although, I have a pretty good idea)

Some people might say WELL GIVE HER A CHANCE!!!!

Hmm... no.

Everything the show needs to be successful with Chloe’s character...

It’s already right there.

She does not need a secret sibling

She does not require a sweeter counterpart

And she definitely DOESN’T need Thomas constantly bashing her to impressionable fans online like she’s the Antichrist personified!

Seriously dude, if you hate her so much why bother creating her?

And if you hate her so much... why spend so long talking about her?

Despite his repeated denials, I think something another user here said is very true...

She DOES live ‘rent free’ in his head.

It sickens him that, despite his best efforts, she still has so many fans.

Not to worry, Thomas.

From what I see, there are still plenty of sycophants who agree with everything you say (even if they actually don’t)

After all, it’s enough for some to get a reply from the ‘great man’ himself

Why jeopardize that by trying to engage with him in a meaningful debate?

Especially when we know how handsy he is with the ‘block’ button.

Anyway, this went on for about a thousand more words than I meant it to.

I guess me and Thomas have just ONE thing in common (Thank God)

This is a topic which we both feel VERY strongly about.

The differently is of course, I have far less power in the process, and preach to a much smaller audience.

Still, I won’t let that stop me ranting away like a loon.

Hey, if it’s good enough for him... ;)

#miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #adrien agreste #ml salt #ml rants #lila rossi

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Never-Ending Encore, Chapter 1

Summary/Intro: Okay. Ignoring all the death and dying, Eden Smith is a fairly normal person. So maybe not everyone grows up on a farm and gains a new “cousin” every few years, and— I mean, yeah, most people don’t have a mother who definitely used to kill people for a living, or have a father who walked out when they refused to become a superhero, or ran away to Gotham without telling anyone they know, or— or— Okay, FINE! Maybe Eden ISN'T entirely normal. Can’t you just let her eat her cookies and die a couple times in peace? Sheesh! 

Pairing: Jason Todd/Red Hood x OC

It’s supposed to be a little silly mixed with a little sad so just go into it with that in mind plz. Hopefully it’s not GOD AWFUL.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Chapter One:

It was, for once, a quiet night in Eden’s apartment. Her upstairs neighbors weren’t hosting an orgy or starting World War 3, the baby downstairs wasn’t crying bloody murder, and her next-door-neighbor wasn’t screaming at the TV.

Out on the street, it was equally quiet. Sure, a car alarm had gone off a few minutes ago, but there was no drunken shouting. No random gunshots, no gratuitous explosions in the distance. In fact, for what must’ve been the first night since she’d moved there, the city of Gotham actually seemed at ease.

Maybe that should’ve put Eden on edge. Maybe it was some kind of warning, a calm before an inevitable storm. But it was the first sense of peace she'd felt in months. She couldn't just ignore it. Instead of curling up on her bed with her headphones full blast, questioning her life choices, she sat out on the fire escape and enjoyed the calm night.

Her apartment was situated just high enough to peek over the rooftops of most of the neighboring buildings. The outline of Gotham’s tallest skyscrapers stood in the distance and car lights twinkled on the nearby highway like stars. Out here, a thick stench of smog and rotting trash usually choked the air, but tonight a soft breeze blew it away. A soft mixture of brick, iron, the herbs she was growing, and her freshly baked cookies took its place.

If she closed her eyes and tried – really, really tried – it almost felt like being back home.

The thick blanket wrapped around her could just as easily be protecting her from splinters on the front porch. The distant sound of cars could be a gust of wind blowing through the trees or the horses playing in the field. Her freshly baked snickerdoodles couldn’t be Mama’s – nobody’s cookies ever tasted as good as Mama’s – but Eden could at least pretend she’d made them at their small bakery at the edge of the road.

She ate another, savoring the warm, chewy center and trying not to focus on the difference in taste. She was baking most of their goods by heart by the time she was ten years old. Blindfold her, tie one hand behind her back, and Eden could still probably make anything on the menu without much trouble. But for some reason, here… things didn’t taste the way they were supposed to.

They still tasted good, she assured herself as she took another bite. It was probably just the store-bought ingredients she’d had to settle for. Or the city water. Or that they made her miss home.

Eden frowned. She quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, pushing the idea away. She had more important things to worry about right now than cookies and tastes. Like her newest job.

She'd landed a new role just last week and the sooner she could be off-script, the happier her director would be. She only spoke in three scenes of this show, but that was two more than the previous one and she was on-stage for several more. The better she did, the better her referrals would be. The better the referrals, the more work she would get, and the closer she would be to getting bigger roles. When she got bigger roles, she’d get even better referrals, which would land her even bigger roles, and so on and so forth until she could afford an apartment in a, uh… less interesting part of Gotham.

Even in this hotbox-of-crime neighborhood, her studio apartment somehow cost more than twice the two-bedroom house Kit and her boyfriend were renting back home. And the insurance fees in Gotham? Outrageous. But sadly necessary considering all the nutzo shenanigans that went down in the city. As much as it would kill her to work in an office, those insurance companies probably made some serious bank, so getting a “real job” at one at some point wasn’t totally off the table.

Eden huffed, unclipping her reading light to turn the page of the script and attaching it again. She had a good thing going now, but she was more than aware it was borrowed time.

Eventually, Frank's money would run out. Eventually, she’d need to call home and explain herself. Eventually eventually, she’d have to actually go home. She’d have to face everyone’s feelings of hurt and betrayal, including her mother’s, which would most certainly be laced with Louanne Smith's particularly frightening brand of ice-cold wrath. Eden would also probably get mugged or murdered in this insane city at least twice and have to listen to everyone's “I told you so"s.

But that wasn’t right now. Right now, Eden had it okay.

She had a small, shitty apartment in a huge, shitty city where she would most certainly die if she wasn’t careful, but at least it was her own place. No overbearing mother always staring over her shoulder, no runaways taking her bed for the night, no rag-tag group of semi-siblings gobbling up her time and space and arguing house rules when she fought back. This was her space, damn it, and she didn’t have to share it with anybody unless she wanted to! Not that she’d want anyone else coming to such a colorful part of Gotham in the first place, but still! It was hers.

And nobody here knew her. There was no history she had to take into account every time she stepped outside; no old rivalries or mishaps that mapped out which side of town she was and wasn’t safe on. In Gotham, you just plain old weren’t safe no matter who you were, where you were, or what you’d done. Eden had learned that quick. She almost preferred it some ways. It was easier than the small-town, passive-aggressive grudges and back-stabbings she'd grown up around.

Not to mention she had Gotham’s robust, ever-growing performance industry at her disposal. Despite all the insanity and crime that surrounded them – or, perhaps, because it surrounded them – the wealthy here demanded a constant stream of grand symphonies, operas, ballets, and so forth to distract them. Performers in Gotham were paid better than anywhere else in America. They had to be. With how often performances were interrupted by madmen and villains here, it had to be worth the risk.

For Eden, that risk wasn't something she really needed to consider. If something happened, she'd be fine. She always was. She was "lucky" like that.

And besides, fewer people willing to risk getting shot or blown up in the middle of a performance meant fewer people at auditions! Getting to be on stage, getting to follow her dreams... That was why Eden had left the farm in the first place. And Gotham was the best place for her to achieve those dreams as quickly as possible. So things were okay.

Really! Even if she was a little homesick, even if this dirty town was too crowded and too crazy, even if guilt hung over her like a knife... things were okay.

In fact, at this exact moment – in the strange but welcomed quiet of the night, practicing what she loved, eating still-warm cookies out in the open air – things felt better than okay. Things for once, actually, genuinely, felt good.

Then, a shadow flickered over her.

Eden froze.

Her free hand hovered over the plate of cookies. She’d been turning in such a way, leaning over the stair she was sitting on to reach the plate, that all her weight was now pushing into her toes. It was a hard position to hold without falling over. Blinding, too. Her head was cast down, facing the cookies and not at all in the direction of the shadow.

She wanted to move. Just enough to right herself and let her look somewhere beyond the metal grating underneath her. But Eden could practically hear Mr. Monroe, her old coach, scolding her.

“Hold position!” he’d say. Then, after noticing her shaking knees, he would trill, “I said hold, Eden! Keep your limbs still. Breathe carefully. I don’t want to see a single sign of life. In this moment, you are a prop. You are the scenery!”

The fire escape gave a small, almost unnoticeable shake as something dropped near her. Eden's limbs jerked instinctively. She shut her eyes, silently cursing, hoping it was just a raccoon.

Did Gotham even have raccoons? Eden hoped very much that they had raccoons. Giant, mutant raccoons that could cast large shadows and make fire escapes shake when they landed.

“You planning on staying like that all night or…?” a distorted voice asked.

Heartbreaking News: Gotham City does not have mutant raccoons.

---

Chapter 2

#jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd x reader #Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #Never-Ending Encore #original character #oc: Eden Smith #idk what i'm doing #help #my writing #cross posted on ao3 #plz dont kill me #Fluff #angst #eventual smut?

[visionsofus]

Wanda and Vision's Mixtape

track #1: Last Dance by Camera Can't Lie

| read on AO3 here | mixtape playlist | send me an ask with your request |

synopsis: In which Civil War never happened and they all lived happily ever after. Wanda and Vision dance at one of Tony’s fancy galas and are forced to address the feelings that have become apparent to themselves, and the rest of the team. Yearning included with a happy resolution after a lil bit of angsty longing.

if this was our last chance (i'd ask you to stay)

A fundraising gala wasn’t how Wanda had intended to spend her first free Friday night in over a month yet here she was, decked out in a red cocktail dress with her hair piled up in wavy curls atop her head.

Tony Stark had started by leading the team up to an actual stagewhich had Wanda feeling a hot wave of embarrassment that had little to do with the glaring heat of the spotlights overhead. She tried to stamp down the frustration that built in her with every joke cracked by the billionaire before the podium. Wanda had to give it to him this time, Tony had warned them exactly what tonight would be: a gaggle of busybody networkers and the odd philanthropist come to see the celebrities that were the Avengers. It just so happened that there was plenty of wealth to be given in exchange for a snatch of conversation with a superhero. So, Wanda knew she could grumble all she liked about how much she hated how they glorified her ‘job’ and made her famous in a way she knew she had no right to be, but that wouldn’t change the fac that she had agreed to this event. For the charities they were supporting it would be worth it. In a rare moment of understanding, Tony had even invited her to assist Pepper Potts in the distribution of funds to the various Stark sponsored charities, to see the work firsthand. It was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Not with her history.

Tony appeared to have reached the end of his speech and the rest of the team was thankfully let go to disperse around the large gala hall. Wanda took her time following Natasha off the stage, knowing that the moment she was enveloped into the waiting crowd the real trouble would begin. Already Steve was being mobbed making Wanda grateful that the public was still relatively fearful of her.

Natasha gave her a somewhat forced smile as she walked headfirst into the crowd, heading straight for Steve. A somewhat frantic scan of the crowd and Wanda had spotted Sam who had escape to the bar, talking with a child who looked far too young to be in such a place. She directed her feet there and did her best to weave throughout the glittering crowd.

A shoulder hit hers and Wanda spun, planting her feet the same way that she had been taught in training, barely stopping herself from falling over.

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice said as Wanda’s assailant turned towards her.

“That’s alright,” Wanda replied trying to smile kindly despite the pain in her shoulder, “I should have been more careful about where I was walking.”

The middle-aged woman’s eyes widened when she saw who she had bumped into and she leant away slightly in way that indicated she clearly wanted to step back but didn’t want to be rude. “No trouble at all.”

Wanda decided it was best to leave.

By the time she made it to the bar the kid had been guided off by Pepper in her usual whirlwind of reddish hair. Sam was leaning against the bar and appeared to be pointedly ignoring the group of people who were ogling him from a few seats down.

“You have a fanclub,” Wanda said in a mock whisper as she sidled up to him.

“They aren’t all for me,” Sam grinned back and sure enough a few of the group had broken off and were heading her way.

Wanda resisted the urge to say oh no and instead braced herself with a welcoming smile. Undeterred by being in the presence of two of the Avengers a youngish woman with choppy black hair extended a hand confidently.

“I’m Alisia,” she said, and Wanda returned the hand shake as warmly as she could. She hadn’t spent a whole lot of time out in public in a long time, was this how things were done?

“I’m Wanda.”

“We know!” The person standing beside Alisia was all gangly limbs but the voice that emerged was pitched with such child-like excitement it almost made Wanda smile for real.

Alisia gave her companion a sharp look. “We really admire your work.”

“Thank you…” Wanda said slowly looking at Sam for guidance. He smirked and tipped his glass to her. At least Sam had had a regular life before joining the Avengers. Wanda tried not to think about a lot of what had happened before she had joined the team, though she had attended school for a period of time, she was still seriously out of practice in making introductions.

“I’m Aron,” the tall person said extending their hand, somewhat shakily, as Alisia had done.

“Lovely to meet you,” Wanda replied, not liking how tightly her hand was held.

When neither made to make further conversation and were instead content to look at her in awe. Wanda quickly turned to the bottle of wine that Sam had before him pouring a glass for herself.

“We have a proposal for you,” said Aron abruptly breaking the awkward silence that appeared to have their friends not far off in a bit of a tizzy, judging from the groans of shame.

“A plan you could say,” Alisia added.

“To take down scientology.”

It was said with such absolute certainty that even Sam choked on his drink.

“We’ve seen what you can do, what happened in Sokovia, Lagos. You could annihilate their headquarters with a wave of your hand–”

Wanda didn’t bother to correct them on the scope of her powers at present, rather she was consumed by the heartbeat that was growing louder in her ears, the fact that her hand had begun to shake a little around the glass she held. Holding the glass tighter helped marginally in blocking the onslaught of images that threatened to overwhelm her. Pietro, Ultron, Novi Grad’s destruction, Lagos and every mistake she had made since.

Sam wasn’t laughing anymore.

“Hey guys it was really nice meeting you, but I don’t know if this is an appropriate conversation to have at a charity function,” Sam said gesturing to the room around them. Distantly Wanda registered that an orchestra had started playing somewhere.

Alisia wasn’t swayed. “It’s just a simple question, we’ve even written up a report for you with all the headquarters listed if you’d like to take it. The destruction you can cause could be of real use to our group in dismantling–”

This was not going in the direction Wanda needed it to. She tried to work through the breathing exercises that Sam had taught her or go over the mentally quietening techniques he’d said helped PTSD patients. She was usually quite good at it but hadn’t ever had to use such coping mechanisms in a public scenario. Wanda set the glass down quickly because any second she was sure it was going to shatter under her grip.

“That’s enough,” Sam said at the exact time a familiar figure stepped up to them, shielding Wanda from the warm lights overhead.

“Wanda, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The relief that spread through her bones was tangible. Wanda felt herself straighten, take a deep breath in through her mouth and out through her nose.

“I was waiting her for you,” she replied breathlessly with her first real smile of the night.

Vision’s arm came to a comforting rest around her back, his hand cupping her elbow as he nodded to the Sam and lead her away. They left in time for her to hear Sam questioning the kids about the rest of their friends who appeared to be taking advantage of the free flow bar despite being clearly underage.

“Thank you, you saved me,” Wanda murmured as they arced around the outside of the crowd which had begun to section off into little groups, many focused around one or two members of the team.

“I thought you might need rescuing,” Vision said back and tapped his forehead with his free hand, indicating the mind stone that was usually atop his forehead. Tony had made it perfectly clear that Vision could appear as himself tonight if he so wished, but as Vision had confided in her beforehand, he hadn’t wanted to make any of the donors uncomfortable. His sensitivity to others warmed her heart usually, but the way he hid himself didn’t feel right. If anyone ought to be hidden away out of sight of the wealthy donors it was her.

As though knowing what she was thinking, Vision pulled her closer and over to an empty table where a handful of belongings had been abandoned in favour of the networking happening out on the floor. He poured her a fresh glass of water and placed it in her hand.

“Thank you, if you hadn’t saved me, I don’t know what I would have done,” Wanda said and reached out to touch his hand.

“It’s alright.”

“Still, you shouldn’t need to,” Wanda said sheepishly, not quite knowing why she was still talking. Thank you had been simple enough, where were these excuses coming from?

“You know why I do it,” Vision said making out to hold her hand in his, but Wanda was quick to draw it back to the water glass before her.

She did know why he did it. Vision had made that veryclear two weeks ago when they had returned from a particularly difficult mission. Things hadn’t gone the way they were supposed to, and Wanda had dislocated her shoulder mid fight. She’d used her magic to push herself away from the battle, leaving Steve and Sam to take the brunt of the thugs they had discovered were attempting to reproduce old Stark military technology. All it had taken was that spark of blinding pain as her shoulder slipped free of its socket for Wanda’s powers to momentarily get out of control. She wasn’t sure why she’d done it, if it was even a conscious decision really. But she must have reached out to Vision. He arrived just in time to knock the crap out of one of the thugs who’d stepped towards her to finish the work.

Vision had fallen to his knees next to her and assessed her injury immediately, even as she struggled to speak past the pain and explain that she was fine, that Sam and Steve needed help. He had lifted her with endless care and taken her straight to the SUV that Natasha was waiting in. He’d even gotten terse with Nat about Wanda’s condition and the need to get back to the compound but waiting for the others naturally won out (Wanda had had to deal with his disapproving muttering as he tried to make her comfortable in the back of the car). When they were eventually joined by Sam and Steve the pain had gone down significantly but Vision was on edge. He insisted on holding her steady in the back of the car, and when they arrived back at the compound and called for a doctor, he had carried her from room to room until they reached the infirmary. Vision had been a constant presence as the doctor arrived and set about administering pain medication and setting her shoulder back into its joint.

After a brief argument, Wanda had been allowed back to her regular rooms where Vision had pestered her all evening with fresh ice packs, more pillows and a steaming bowl of chicken soup (Wanda had to remind him this was usually just for the flu but when he began to list its benefits post-exercion she gave in and ate it all).

It wasn’t until late that night as she drifted in and out of a hazy sleep, waking every now and then to the throbbing in her shoulder as the pain medication slowly wore off, did Wanda realise Vision was still beside her.

His head was slumped against his chest in the chair that usually sat in the corner of her room. His hand was holding hers and it tightened as she shifted into a sitting position. Registering that she was awake Vision had snapped upright and pulled his hand away.

“Sorry,” he’d said and seemed to be about to stand up, “I–”

“It’s fine,” Wanda said assuring enough that he sat down once more, “I want you to stay.”

His face softened in the near darkness and he pulled his chair closer. They whispered quietly to each other for three quarters of an hour, despite no chance of waking up the rest of the team (Wanda’s room being sound proofed when she’d moved in thanks to violent sleep terrors in her first few weeks). When her eyes finally started to droop again Vision helped her lie down and again, he hesitated. Their eyes locked and for a moment Wanda thought for sure that he’d kiss her. Instead, he had leant closer and pressed his forehead to hers for the shortest of moments. It wound up being infinitely more intimate than a peck on the cheek might have been. The breath that he sighed as he rose again was of relief and Wanda felt it then – the absolute fear he’d felt that morning when her distressed cry for help had reached him along some line of connection between them (owing to the stone, she assumed). She wondered if Vision had ever expected himself to be presented with the idea of loss.

Worse yet, Vision had unknowingly (or perhaps consciously) left their link open as he resumed his seat and took her hand again. Wanda had done her best to pretend to sleep as Vision had closed his eyes, no doubt his brain was moving as quick as ever behind fluttering eyelids. But it was difficult to fully relax as he fed the feelings along this line of connection Wanda hadn’t even realised, they’d had. She supposed it made sense, they hadn’t always needed to use words and got along in a way that surprised most of the team. Wanda was about to ask Vision to feelmore quietly so she could get some sleep when his eyes opened again and whatever he’d been researching was left to the back of his mind. Instead, she felt his gaze on her ‘sleeping’ face and the following wave of affection that flowed to her, warming her from top to bottom. Adoration, coloured by fear yes, but overwhelmingly loving.

They’d remained that way most of the night, Vision retreating into his mind for most of the time no doubt aware that Wanda spent two hours focusing on regulating her breaths so that when she eventually dropped off into oblivion, she was exhausted.

They hadn’t discussed that day since. Vision had been gone by morning and Wanda wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t dreamt the whole thing up. Except for the fact that she felt the same way every time she saw him and recalled the warmth of that night. Then Vision had been sent south and she’d been on house arrest for a week to heal her shoulder properly. They hadn’t really had the opportunity to sit down like this.

So yes, Wanda knew why he did what he did. Why he was drawn to her like this. But she also couldn’t ignore the stone that hung between them and the connection it held to both their lives. How could she call the feelings that flowed through her real – what if it was all owing to the stupid stone in his head? That was the fear that had stuck with her in the two years since they’d started living together at the compound, she wasn’t about to start listening to her heart now.

So, she snatched her hand back, immediately regretting her action at the flash of emotion across Vision’s face and went back to her water. She convinced herself that his statement, you know why I do it, didn’t require any further discussion for the moment.

To Wanda’s surprise the silence between them was broken by the small orchestra in one corner of the hall which had started up a mighty waltz. Dancing? She mused to herself. Sure enough couples had begun to pair off across what was revealed to be a dance floor in the centre..

While Wanda’s eyes had been stuck on the floor, Vision’s had been fixed to her and she could see he was about to ask to dance. She knew she should say no, but also knew she wouldn’t be able to if it came down to it.

Her second saviour of the night was Steve Rogers who happened to walk past at exactly that moment. Wanda launched herself up and in a few short strides was at his side asking for a dance with a mocking curtsey, a dismayed Vision left behind her. It has to be like thisshe told herself.

“Would you care to dance, Captain?” Steve looked taken aback at first but quickly joined in on the charade.

“Of course, milady,” and extended an elbow in a way that reminded Wanda that going dancing like this had probably been fairly common for Steve when he was a teenager.

They took up a position on the outer rim of the dance floor as Wanda tried to find her feet and recall what little she knew about waltzing from television and the one dance lesson Nat had teased out of her. Thankfully Steve was an excellent partner. She knew there were a whole host of jealous eyes on her as they spun around but Wanda paid them little attention. Her thoughts were so clearly occupied, and so obviously on Vision that Steve had to save her from stumbling a few times.

“It doesn’t have to be like this between you two, y’know?” Steve said giving her a comforting smile.

Wanda sighed hopelessly. “It does though.”

“I don’t know everything that is happening or if this helps, but you know that no one in the team would have an issue with it right?”

“I know, thank you.” It was comforting coming from him, but Wanda knew it was the least of her concerns.

“So why do you avoid his advances?” Steve asked bluntly in a way she knew only Steve would. “Are his feelings not reciprocated?”

Wanda flushed. “No, they are reciprocated…”

“So, what’s the problem.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“It isn’t,” Steve said shrugging and Wanda thought she noticed a little edge to his voice. “If you both feel something strong, I can’t begin to imagine what could be keeping you from each other. At least nothing worth listening too.”

“Maybe,” Wanda said thoughtfully. She wanted to tell Steve about the connection they seemed to have, her fear that their connection was down to the stone and the stone alone. That she had imagined all the instances over the last year when her heart had fluttered or warmed at the sight of him. But she knew, deep down, that this wasn’t the heart of the fear. She was more afraid than she’d been in a long time. It wasn’t the fear that came with regular life-threatening missions or the fear she had felt crouched below her childhood bed, waiting for a bomb to finally detonate. It was the fear that she’d get attached and when she eventually lost Vision… that this time she wouldn’t climb out of the pit of grief.

“Don’t let fear be your compass,” Steve said squeezing her hand and pulling her to a stop by the outskirts of the dancers. He was so intuitive when it came to what she was worrying about that it was unnerving. He also knew precisely what to say. “Take it as someone who didn’t take the leap when he had the chance.”

Even if Wanda had wanted to protest this, she didn’t have the chance as Vision appeared yet again. His brow was furrowed, it furrowed deeper when he caught sight of Steve’s hand which she hadn’t realised she’d still been holding.

“May I take over?” Vision asked looking rather than at Steve, but directly at Wanda.

She nodded to Steve and he gave her hand one last squeeze. “Take the leap.” With that last reminder he disappeared off into the crowd. Without hesitation, Vision offered up his hand.

In moments Vision had her spinning around the floor, no longer hidden around the outside but edging closer to the centre of the dance floor. His movements were fluid, his hand a soft assurance cupping her back, his left hand guiding her through the dance. Without warning the orchestra picked up a livelier tune and the dance changed, some couples left the floor in surprise, but more were quick to replace them. The contemporary music filled the hall around them, but Wanda paid it little attention, her gaze was focused on Vision only.

After a particularly wonderful spin that had Wanda twirling back into Vision’s embrace, she felt she was finally able to form words.

“I didn’t know you could dance?”

“Until a few minutes ago I couldn’t,” Vision said honestly, a somewhat sheepish smile grace his face. “The only reason it took me so long to go after you was that I didn’t want to fumble on the dance floor. I was watching videos…” He trailed off in something like embarrassment.

“Well, I’m glad one of us knows what to do.”

“I–” She began.

“Wanda–” Vision started and they both looked at each other before laughing.

“Would you like to go first?” He offered.

“I just wanted to apologise for leaving you at the table, it was rude.”

“Not at all,” Vision said shaking his head fervently, “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I’d hate to think that I’ve pressured you into anything, I’d never want to do that. If anything that I’ve said, or done, has made you uncomfortable, tonight or in the past–”

“No,” Wanda said, cutting him off more forcefully than she intended. She cleared her throat, her cheeks warming again. “You haven’t pressure me into anything, this is entirely me. I’ve been acting without thinking about what we both feel and what I want.”

Before she could elaborate on what she had just revealed they were whipped up in the music once more and she was spent spinning around again and again. She barely felt her feet moving across the shining marble of the floor and had to check that she wasn’t legitimately levitating. Pairs moved to make space for them as Vision led her through a simple but elegant routine of spinning, stepping and swaying. Wanda relished the feeling of his hand at her back and the closeness between them. The intimacy as clear despite the hundred eyes piercing into their back as they flew around the space in perfect synchronicity. With a final crescendo that left Vision to dip her gracefully, Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, her arms holding onto him tightly. When he pulled her up, her arms settled around his neck and they swayed for the final bars of the song before the audience began too applaud the orchestra. They were left staring at each other, almost nose to nose. Wanda noted that she was breathing hard, and it wasn’t entirely from the exertion of dancing. She was so focused on his eyes and the way they were looking at each other, the knowing and understanding passing between them. With a slight hesitation she reached up and pressed a hand to his cheek and felt the warmth there as he leaned into her caress.

There moment was interrupted by a loud wolf whistle and Wanda started to realise that they were somewhat the centre of attention and that the dancing had stopped for the night. The source of the wolf whistle was, unsurprisingly, Tony himself.

“We should get out the way,” Wanda said backing away. She saw the momentary fear on Vision’s face, or rather felt it crackle in the air around them and took the opportunity to extend her hand. It was a simple gesture, but she knew as he gently took her hand that it meant everything they hadn’t yet said. It was what Vision had been waiting for, the confirmation of his feelings and the return of hers and that was all they needed for the moment. Wanda squeezed his hand tighter as they stepped around the groups of people blocking their way out of the hall. Vision seemed somewhat confused about where they were going but realisation kicked in when Wanda pulled him behind the curtains that lead to the backstage area of the events hall. The heavy black material swung shut behind them, thoroughly insulating their voices from the outside world.

“Should we talk about this?” Vision said as Wanda dropped his hand and turned back to face him. He gestured between them at this which summed up exactly how uncertain he still was.

“Why talk?” Wanda asked, tilting her head and stepping forward.

One hand caught the lapel of his blue suit, the other rested against his chest as Vision took her face in his hands with all the care in the world. His breath was a whisper against her face as he delicately kissed her cheek on one side, then the other. He pressed his warm lips to her forehead. Starting at her jaw next he pressed tender kisses all the way until he reached her mouth. Wanda tilted her head up and her eyes fluttered open. Vision had dropped his phased glamour and was his usual self, eyes glowing somewhat in the dark. The stone sat quietly at his forehead, but Wanda didn’t spare it a glance. Perhaps this connection was partly due to the stone, but that couldn’t be all it was. This feeling had grown over time, it had been slow and then suddenly quick until she was hurtling towards the cliff and falling before she knew it.

When Vision pressed his lips against hers, she couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face as she flung her arms around him. Finally, her soul seemed to sigh. She was still afraid, but it was a different kind of fear, the fear that she might pass this up, this feeling that was threatening to make her heart beat out of her chest. That she might miss the opportunity to have a life with Vision was more frightening that dangerous missions or the shadow of death always at her back.

Vision drew back slightly, his forehead was still pressed to hers, but his hands had slid down to her waist. Without hesitation Wanda threw her arms around him and pulled him close. It was a moment before he returned the motion. The air crackled around the pair with something only they could sense, affection and longing hung about them that made Wanda press into his embrace further. There were no more words to say for the moment, Wanda had taken her leap and now she had him she was never going to let go.

#wandavision #wanda x vision #scarlet vision fanfic #ao3 fanfiction #Wanda Maximoff #vision #scarlet witch #visionsofusfics

[quackeroos]

ONE WEEK || Day Four

Pairing: tom holland x dying ex!reader

Summary: you were dying, and tom still loves you. now he plans on loving you ‘til your last breath, and maybe get you to say those three words back to him.

Warnings: swearing, angst

Words: 4.9k

*gif is not mine!

General Masterlist | Series Masterlist

EYES SQUINTING, Y/N WOKE UP with the sun shining on her face. The blinds were open, and she groaned at the blinding rays of light. She never really was a fan of the morning sun. Well, when it came to waking her up, of course. She very much preferred watching it set rather than blinding her eyes.

Her body decided to wake up, a little early than her usual wake up time. Stretching her muscles felt good, she could feel her joints pop and give her that relaxing feeling. Blinking, her eyes wandered around her surroundings. It was weird, nobody was with her. She expected to see Tom laying down on the couch and her sister on the little spare bed beside hers, but instead, she was all alone. Her hand reached for her phone and rang their contact numbers. It immediately went to voicemail.

She tried ringing Tom's phone for the fourth time, still no answer. "Where could he have gone?" she hears the door open, her head turns at the source, expecting a curly haired brunette walk out of the shadows. "Tom?" she called out. But instead of Tom, it was someone else.

"Bold of you to assume I'm a guy, N/n." a giggle escapes her mouth, it was only Jamie.

"You look disappointed, what's wrong?" her sister approaches her bed bringing along some of the stuff she got. Y/n shakes her head. "Never mind that. So, where have you been? And what's with all the paper bags?"

"Just thought of buying a few outfits for us. I even sneaked this pass your nurses." Jamie opens the lid of the takeout she bought. Pancakes and Waffles. A grin makes it way up to her mouth, but falters at the sudden realization. "You know I can't." sadness in the tone of her voice was evident.

"Oh nonsense! I say that today is your cheat day, and that my sister should have a bit of freedom. Now here, eat." She pushes the breakfast plate towards her and gave her the maple syrup. Y/n ponders for a moment. Should she or should she not? It looked so good, but it could risk her health even more. One sweet breakfast couldn't hurt, right?

Still having second thoughts, she reluctantly takes the fork and knife, digging into the maple syrup covered carb meal. The sweet taste melted in her mouth, and she loved it. She missed the flavour of every dessert, sugar, and fast food she ate. She hated her diet, oh how much she missed living normal. "Good, right? Tom told me you'd like it." This caught her attention. Her face looked up from the plate, a little drop of maple syrup on her lips.

"What?"

"What?" her sister parroted. Y/n wasn't at all phased. Her eyes squinted at her while Jamie still pretended to not say anything. "Just go and eat your breakfast, I'm taking you to a trip around the hospital after."

***

"Can't we just stay in the room? I really wanna finish my sit-com marathon."

"Oh, quit you're whining! You should get out of that room more. It's suffocating in there." Y/n rolled her eyes at her sister. She sounded a lot like their Mum, and Y/n could already picture it out in her head. Jamie did take after their mother's looks and a bit of her mannerisms, and on their Dad's side, she got more of his personality. She stifled a laugh while looking at her sister. Jamie gives her a confused look. "What are you laughing at?" she asked.

"Nothing. You just sounded like Mum." Jamie gives her a sarcastic laugh and continues pushing. Y/n hadn't taken this route before though. The siblings pass through a skybridge leading towards the other building of the hospital. Her head craned and looked up at her sister, "Where are we even going?" She asked.

A smirk appears on her face. "You'll see."

The once transparent walls were changed into colorful walls painted with rainbows, flowers, butterflies and stars. This must be the children's ward. Y/n thought. The two pushed through two doors, leading to what seems "An activity center?" The girl spoke aloud. The venue was filled with a mix of teens and children, sick children. "Why in the world did you bring me to an activity center filled with children?" Jamie only looked at her with a hint of excitement in her eyes. Music blasted through the speakers and two familiar faces walked out from the makeshift stage.

"What's up guys! /Hello everyone!" the two greeted, waving to the crowd of children who also seemed to be hyped up. "I'm Jacob and this is my good friend Zendaya." The kids reply in chorus, waving at them saying 'Hi'

"So today we have a very special surprise for you guys! Do you like surprises?" Another enthusiastic reply from the young crowd, which brings a smile to Zendaya and Jacob's faces. At a far distance, Y/n could see a mop of curly ginger-brown hair holding a camera. It was Harry. Y/n could smell something fishy. The smirk her sister gave, Jacob and Zendaya's sudden appearance, Harry filming. She didn't want to go with her gut feeling. Y/n wanted to leave but at the same time, she wanted to stay and see where this was headed. "So, do you guys like heroes?" Jacob directed the mic towards the crowd and everyone in the room replied with another 'Yes'

"You know what Z? I'm not gonna delay this any longer. Everyone please welcome, our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man!" the doors burst open and music played as the figure made an entrance. He momentarily glances at Y/n. Although the person was masked, she could feel his smile radiating. She knew exactly who it was behind it. Spider-Man did a flip, making the children around him wow and cheer at awe. "Hey! What's up everybody?" more cheers from the audience. He removes the red mask and his long brown curls flopped on his forehead, making him bring his hand up and brush through it. It was a signature move he did that Y/n loved, she still does, she's not gonna deny that. The Kingsleigh Sisters stayed all throughout the little meet and greet. Some stories and laughs were shared between Tom and his fans. She could tell he loved it, his job, his fans, everything. And when it was time for him to go, Tom lifts his mic.

"But before that, I'm gonna sing a song for you guys. Some of you might know this, so go ahead and sing along if you'd like." Sam takes out a mic stand while Tuwaine hands him a caramel colored guitar. Y/n recognizes the familiar instrument. She could feel her heart clench. Thousands of songs were played with it, and so many memories held in that guitar, both good and bad ones. She then started to wonder, did Tom ever stopped playing after everything that had happened?

The man positioned himself behind the mic, his guitar hanging around him with a strap to keep it's hold. He played a few chords to see if it was in tune, before he talks through the microphone. "This song is called, Introducing Me." Y/n hears a few of them gasp, most of it coming from the teenagers.

Tom starts strumming the intro, biting his lip a bit and smiling as he does. A few of the audience starts to sing along with him, their phones raised up, ready to record everything.

"I'm good at wasting time I think lyrics need to rhyme And you're not asking But I'm trying to grow a mustache I eat cheese, but only on pizza please Sometimes, on a homemade quesadilla Otherwise it smells like feet to me,"

She remembers one time, when they went out on a date, Tom insisted not to order anything that has a lot of cheese. It didn't sit well with his stomach and he heavily dislike the smell. And like the song, he only accepts it on pizzas.

"And I, I really like it when the moon looks like a toenail And I love you when you say my name"

Tom looks up from the crowd and finds the pair of e/c he loved looking into. Although she was far, he caught her staring back. Y/n didn't know what to feel. At the exact moment he said those three words, he looked at her. Her heart starts beating to the same beat to the song.

"If you wanna know Here it goes Gonna tell you this The part of me that shows if you're close Gonna let you see everything But remember that you asked for it I'll try to do my best to impress"

The song takes her way back to high school. It was lunch time, and hundreds of students were there to witness it. In the middle of the cafeteria, he stood there on the table, facing her, serenading her in front of everyone. And here they are now, nine years later, in front of a crowd, doing the exact same thing that made her see what could be if she said yes to him.

"But it's easier to let you take a guess at the rest But you wanna hear what lives in my brain My heart, will you ask for it For your perusing At times confusing, slightly amusing Introducing me"

His little humming to the tune made her giggle, Y/n found it very cute, with his head moving to it, it was double the times better. When it came to the second verse, he strummed faster, the lyrics also matching with his pace.

"I never trust a dog to watch my food And I like to use to the word "dude" As a noun, or an adverb, or an adjective And I've never really been into cars I like really cool guitars and superheroes And checks with lots of zeros on 'em"

Tom walks towards the audience area, serving his fans with a few smiles for them and for the cameras on their phones. Harry followed behind his brother, documenting everything with his camera.

"I love the sounds of violins And making someone smile"

His goofy face made her smile. A sweet and genuine smile. It was more than enough for Tom to send him to the seventh heaven. The corners of her eyes crinkled, cheeks blushed and face fully glowing. How he wished he could see her like this every day. He continues with the chorus, circling the fans, and from time to time, he would glance at Harry's camera. The bridge part of the song came, and little by little, y/n notices Tom coming towards her. Jamie moved back to give the two their limelight, her giddy smile evident on her face.

"So, if you wanna know, here it goes Gonna tell ya there's a part of me that shows If were close gonna let you see everything But remember that you asked for it I'm trying to do my best to impress

But it's easier to let you take a guess at the rest But you wanna hear what lives in my brain, in my heart Well, you asked for it."

At this point, y/n was already melting in her seat. Tom continued strumming, his left hand skillfully moving from one chord to the other on the neck of the guitar, all the while his gaze was focused on her. The crowd of children, teenagers, nurses and guardians all directed their attention towards the two, not only them but their group of friends too, and Harry at the side still holding his camera with a grin on his face.

"For your perusing At times confusing Hopefully amusing Introducing me" He slowly kneels on one knee, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. The brown locks on top of his head flopped on his forehead and droplets of sweat glimmered in the fluorescent lights. Being a habit of hers, her hands lift up and brush through his hair. The brown locks slicked back and stayed with the few waxes left in its hold.

"Introducing me."

Heavy breaths came out of him, his hands were a bit sore, and his head felt a little fuzzy. But it was fine for him, because the butterflies he felt in his stomach and the immense pounding of his heart both in exhaustion and adoration made it alright. Tom heard claps in the background, but he never turned. He just wanted to be with her and the moment that they have right then and there.

"You're shaking, Tom." She spoke softly. He couldn't feel it himself, but Y/n could see him trembling a bit. Probably because of the exhaustion his body had intake. Tom only smiled and dismissed the fact. "It's alright. I'm not gonna pass out I promise." A soft giggle escapes her lips. "Is this the reason why I haven't seen and heard of you all morning?"

"Yeah. But that was only the opening act." A smirk formed on his lips and pushed back the stray hair on her face. He quickly left and went back to the stage, thanking everyone who came and the hospital for having them. Y/n was left dumbfounded and confused. What did he mean 'that was only the opening act' ?

***

Tom quickly went to go to a nearby restroom and change back into his casual clothes, hurrying as he fixes his pants and combs through his hair. Sam was outside, waiting with a bouquet of Yarrows, and Harry waited with his twin, holding his brother's guitar. "So, now what do you do?" He asked his sibling from the door, and it opened to reveal a fresh-faced Tom. His hand runs through his hair, grabbing the bouquet in the other.

"Phase One: Nostalgia"

***

Jamie helped her change into the clothes she bought her. Y/n shivered at the cold air that was hitting her skin. She wasn't used exposing her skin that much, unlike a few years ago. Now, it felt like she was living in the Arctic Ocean. The air in her hospital room combined with the cold London air was not helping her condition at all. "Why do I have to wear a dress?" she questioned her sister, irritation visible in her tone.

"Because...."

She waited for her to continue, but Jamie only kept silent and fixed her hair. "Because what?" she urged on. "Oh, you'll find out soon." Her eyebrow perked up. She had a gut feeling this had something to do with Tom. It had only been a few hours since she had last seen him. And with the last sentence he had told her, made her mind run in circles and her gut clench that maybe what Jamie was doing was all part of it.

It all connected, but she had to find out if it really was true. So she let Jamie do her hair while she sat comfortably in her wheelchair, watching the telly in her hospital room. The younger Kingsleigh was already half through when her phone beeped from her pocket. She skillfully holds all three strands in one hand while using the other to open her phone and read the text message Harry had sent her.

Curlz™ Tom's done changing. We're heading to the car.  Is everything set? 

Jamie Jamz 🍯🍓 She's almost done.  You got her exit permits?

Curlz™ Yup. Gtg.  We still need to set up everything before she comes.

Jamie Jamz 🍯🍓 See ya later curlios read 12:28 pm 

Jamie tucked away her phone and continued braiding the small section of her sister's hair. Y/n wasn't really a fan of her hair being tied up, she preferred it free from bands and bobby pins. But Jamie loved doing her hair, so on rare occasions, she lets her do hers. Once Jamie was done, she let Y/n look of her final look in the mirror. the sides of her hair were braided but it was loose, just as she requested. The remaining locks trailed down her shoulders felt free to her liking. "It's perfect. Thank you Jams."

"Glad you like it. Now come on, we gotta go. the car's waiting."

She blinks in confusion. "Wait, a car? I thought I wasn't supposed to leave before my surgery?"

"Nothing's impossible, darling. We've made a little arrangement. And besides, you have 48 hours before your surgery. Let's make the most of it, yeah?" Jamie excitedly pushes her wheelchair and they left the room.

***

Y/n couldn't see anything. After boarding the car, her eyes were immediately covered with a blindfold. She could feel Jamie at her side and another person beside her. She assumed it was the nurse that usually takes care of her, the one before Daisy. Harriet, she thinks her names was.

"Jamie, where the hell are you taking me right now?" She was getting impatient. They had been in the car for almost thirty minutes and they still haven't arrived at their destination, wherever it was. "Having some trouble with the directions. Don't worry, we'll be there in ten minutes tops." and in ten minutes, they did.

Y/n was carried down and placed on her wheelchair, Jamie pushing her to who knows where. She took in a deep breath. Oxygen, fresh oxygen. Not the air from the hospital or from the tanks, this one was pure oxygen. She had a guess, that they were in a park, maybe? The sounds of birds chirping, the smell of flowers, and the feeling of grass slightly hitting her skin made her think so. The next thing she knew, the cloth was removed from her eyes, and now she could see everything.

Her hunch was right, she was in a park. The park where Tom took her on their first date. "Surprise!" A deep voice said behind her. She turned her head around and found a pair of blue eyes looking back at her with a charming smile. "Harrison? I thought you had a photoshoot today?"

"We ended earlier than expected. And besides, I wouldn't miss this one for the whole world. Let's take a walk, yeah?" He grabs the handlebars and pushes her wheelchair, moving slowly to appreciate the view more. She inhaled a deep breath, nostalgia filled it. Memories flooded back in from their first date to their last one. Those were the only things that ran inside her head for the past few days. The smell of his hair, his cute laughs, dates, fights, kisses and everything they did together. Ever since Tom unexpectedly came to her room and back in her life, it was nothing but pure nostalgia and memories.

Now, she finally understood it. She really did miss him after all these years.

"Feels great to be finally out huh?" Harrison spoke. She hums in reply.

"Even if it's just for today, this is even better than the rooftop garden."

"And it's about to get even better." Harrison leaned down to whisper in her ear and his head nods forward. Her line of sight followed the direction and there she saw Tom, inside a big white playpen filled with dogs, there were at least ten or more of them in different breeds. Harrison can see the sparkle in her eyes, and he smiled when he saw the old Y/n at that moment.

The blonde pushed her towards the gate of the playpen, and when she was already near, dogs start to come up to her and their tails wagged in excitement. Tom notices her at the gate, cooing at the little ones while her hand reached out to them. He stands up, dusts himself off and jogs towards her. "Wanna come and meet them?" he asks her. Tom smiled when she nodded. He stuck his foot at the other side of the playpen and slid his arms under her legs and her small back. He carried her gently and placed her on one of the small cushions.

Dogs of different breeds and sizes came running up to her, smothering her with licks and pouncing on her. Y/n's giggles were the only things he could hear at the moment. Those beautiful giggles he loved to hear. It sounded so melodic; he couldn't get enough of it.

He couldn't get enough of her.

"Tom?" he was pulled back from his thoughts. Y/n was staring up at him, a golden retriever sat on her lap while a few other dogs laid under her hand as she scratched their heads. She patted the other cushion beside her, inviting him to sit down. As soon as he sat down a certain dog came up to him, running with a smile, tongue out. Y/n's face beamed up as soon as she saw her. "You brought Tessa!" The staffy's ears perked up upon hearing her name, she pounced on Y/n and licked her, tail wagging a mile per minute.

"Aww I've missed you sweet angel!" She cooed. Tessa barked; happiness etched on her adorable face.

"I figured I'd bring Tessa. She's been playing with that toy you brought her, never wanted to let go of if." Tom said from the said as he leaned in and scratches his dog's head. So close, her mind warned. His scent filled her nose. That familiar scent that was unique that reminded her that this was her Tom. "Would've been nice though if Haz brought Monty along."

"I'll ask him next time. In the meantime, let's eat." He pulls out a picnic basket from behind and opens it, revealing various snacks that she could eat without having to break her diet.

Her eyebrow quirked up, "You planned this out, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I just happen to find this hiding behind my back."

"Whatever you say. Hey, do me a favour though, pass me that..." she points to the opened basket and one particular pastry was in view. The croissant.

His eyes squinted at Y/n, who was trying to contain her laughter. "Going for the old jokes huh? You pronounce it like that to you know!"

"Yeah. But it's not as lame as yours, Quackson." Tom rolled his eyes and lets out a sigh. Still as childish as ever. Tom took out a pack of dog treats and whistles. Dogs around the playpen immediately run towards Tom and it then are became a food frenzy. "I honestly still can't believe this. Where in the world did you get so many dogs? You didn't kidnap them, did you?"

"I asked a dog shelter I was sponsoring to lend them for a bit. They needed to go out and have a walk anyway, so I thought I might just let them play around. Honestly y/n, you think I'm that bad? And here I thought you knew me better than anyone else."

"Alright, alright, no need to get sappy on me Movie Star."

The corners of his mouth curls and he bites his lip to try and suppress the forming smile. Y/n could see this from her peripheral vision, and she turns around to face him. "What?" Tom just shakes his head and chuckles softly. "Nothing." She had still remembered that darn nickname. He hated being called like that, Movie Star, Big shot, most specially by his father. But with y/n, he didn't mind it. Well, just a little.

"You did great earlier, by the way. I'm glad you never stopped playing."

"Yeah, I'm glad I didn't too." he breathed out.

Y/n puts both hands on her lap. "I have a special request though, if you don't mind playing right now."

Tom waves his hand and moments later, Harrison jogs towards them with Tom's guitar in hand. "Wow, you really prepared for this."

Tom lets out a dry laugh. "Not gonna lie about this one. I was actually gonna do a concert for the kids earlier, But I figured I'd might as well do it for you instead." He puts the strap on and strums the strings, just in the right tune. "So, what song?"

"You choose. You know I'd enjoy anything you play."

And so, Tom positioned himself, sitting crisscrossed and facing her. She silently waits for him while he was choosing a song in his head. His face lit up and he starts strumming, humming the intro. Y/n immediately remembers the song and a grin makes it way up to her face. The song was her favourite, and Tom played it often, so it wasn't hard for her to recognize it. Tom matched her grin and continued playing.

"I'll hold the door Please come in and just sit here for a while. This is my way of telling you I need you in my life."

The next thing y/n did surprised Tom, in a good way. He never thought he'd be hearing her sing along with him again.

"It's so cold without your touch. I've been dreaming way too much Can we just turn this into reality.

And the two sang, hearts beating as one.

"Cause I've been thinking 'bout you lately. Maybe you could save me from this crazy world we live in. And I know we could happen cause you know that I've been feeling you."

A giggle escapes her lips as Tom repeats his humming.

From a far distance, Jamie, Harrison, and the others watched the two. They've never seen the two look so happy together. "It's as if they've never broken up in the first place." Sam commented. The others agreed with him. The two had been grinning, both obviously lovesick and comfortable with each other's presence.

Jacob nudged Harrison's side, asking him, "Do you think she's falling for Tom again?"

"No." All their heads turned to Jamie. "Because, even after my sister broke it off, she never really stopped loving Tom." Her head turns back again to the two. "She always had."

"There's no other love That I'd rather have you know."

And just like what he had done earlier, Tom never broke eye contact.

"There ain't no one there ain't no one else. I want you for myself"

He purposely made y/n feel like the song he was singing was meant for her. Honestly, it was for her. Every word that contained it was the message he wanted to tell her.

"I've been thinking 'bout you lately. Maybe you can save me from this crazy world we live in. And I know we could happen cause you know that I've been feeling you. I know you want me,"

She sang again.

"I've been thinking 'bout you lately. Maybe you can save me from this crazy world we live in. And I know we could happen cause you know that I've been feeling you."

"I know you want me too." The strumming continues and he moved closer to her.

"I know you want me too." Her reply came out more as a statement, but Tom continued strumming and humming.

He ended the song with one last strum. A half-smile was still etched on his face. "I'm glad you never stopped singing, Y/n."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't exactly dance, now can I?" She joked. "I might as well keep the next thing I love most before I lose it."

Tom puts his guitar to the side and offered some food from the picnic basket. Their time together continued, with more duets and playing with the dogs. When the sun was setting, Harrison texted Tom and informed him that it was time to take Y/n back to the hospital. Jamie came with her wheelchair and from that, Y/n knew that the day was over.

"I wish this never ends." Y/n says.

"Don't worry. As soon as you're done with your surgery and you get out of that hospital, we'll be doing this every day." Tom scooped her up and walked towards her wheelchair. He couldn't help but look at Y/n while he was carrying her. She looked like a bride, and he could hear the bells ringing inside his head.

At that moment, Tom had imagined everything. Him standing at the altar with Harrison by his side. His parents and Y/n's parents sitting at the front. Jamie walking down the aisle with her. Dressed in a white gown with beautiful laces that decorated it. Her veil covered her face, but he could still see the face of the love of his life.

It felt like Tom was looking into his future.

He sets her down and the grip around his neck removed once she sat. Jamie turns her wheelchair, "I'll see you at the room, Tom." she said before pushing her sister. Y/n looked back for a moment and waves at Tom. He waves back.

"Can't wipe that smile off can yaw?" Harrison teased, patting his friend's back.

"Nah. Not goanna come off any time soon."

"So, what's your plan now? You made Y/n the happiest she had been ever since she was admitted to the hospital." Tom quiets for a moment and stares off into the distance. He watched Y/n's car drive off before he spoke again. "Haz?"

"Yeah?"

"I've made up my mind. I'm gonna do it again."

"Again? What do you mean-" Harrison slowly realizes what he meant as his voice falters, blue eyes wide in shock. "Tom, are you sure? This is kinda big y'know."

He sighs. "I know." Tom turns to him, a sad look mixed with love and determination on his face. "But Y/n's time is running out, Haz. Her operation is in two days, her chance of survivability may not even make the cut. I'm not gonna take that chance."

Tom felt through his back pocket and took out a tiny velvet box.

-

day five of One Week

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#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland reader insert #peter parker fanfic #harrison osterfield #dying ex #angst fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #one week #one week by quackeroos

[chronicowboy]

Carol Danvers did not expect to get attached to another snarky on the outside but soft on the inside man when she returned to earth. She was simply told that a person, immeasurable in his importance and loved more than he knew, was stranded in space. There was no hesitation in her actions, she marched outside and launched herself into the atmosphere; something she'd done a thousand times but this one felt different. It didn't take all that long for her to find the ship, a man wasting away in the cockpit. For a terrible, agonising moment she thought she was too late, but his eyes — they didn't flutter, no, that's far too delicate a word for what they did — opened with immense force and she breathed a sigh of relief before pushing the ship back home. It was a strange feeling that hung in the air when she laid the ship down. Anxiety, love, curiosity, anger, sadness, regret and comfort combined in a concoction of suffocating agony. The man, Tony Stark, exited the ship and immediately everyone rushed to his aid.

It was hours before Carol felt it appropriate to check on him. What she didn't know was with one simple step into the room and question of his state she'd find a new friend. Pepper, his wife she'd found out, and James, his best friend, had dozed off after he'd finally woken up. A telling off of her fellow captain even without knowing the history behind it was very satisfying, but exhausting for the man who was dying just moments before. He had woken up a while ago and sent his closest loved ones to slumber safe in the knowledge that their Tony was back home, tiring jokes and all. She poked her head in, waving a hand.

"Hey, Carol, is it?" He asked in a stage whisper. She nodded, closing the door softly behind her. "Thanks for saving me and all. Big fan of that whole photon glow thing you have going on-"

"You don't have to do that." She muttered, knowing exactly what he was trying to; she knew it like the back of her hand. "Look, I'm not gonna ask how you are because I know you'll just say you're fine in the form of some snarky comment-"

"So you're me, if I was blonde, female and an alien?" The sincerity in her tone made him uneasy just as all captains did.

"I'm of the human disposition, unfortunately. Survived a blast from the tesseract, absorbed its energy and here we are." An odd sense of pride settled in her heart when he smirked. "I don't know what went on with you guys," she gestured to the captain pacing outside with Natasha, "but I want you to know that I don't give a shit. That rant, that was fucking satisfying as anything. And I know he deserved it." She settled into the empty seat beside Pepper as he chuckled. "I've seen the tapes. Of you fighting," and Tony was struck with the terrible feeling that he was going to be made to question his morals. "You're a good man. You fight for what's right, anyway you can, but you still take more precautions than the rest of them to preserve civilian lives. I think we'll get along just fine." They sat there until the morning, getting to know each other. Carol heard countless stories of Peter Parker, the brave kid from Queens, and his far too loyal for her own good wife whilst Tony heard about the ever-aging family she can never manage to say goodbye to when she leaves and tales about a young, two-eyed Nick Fury. When she left in the morning, a bond had already been formed.

Over the course of a very long half-decade where the skies were embedded with a thick pall of ash that was formerly living loving things, Carol dropped by every now and then. Her holographic meetings with Natasha, a woman she'd grown quite fond of, were nice but that was the only contact she had with earth. Her days spent on the planet were reserved for one small, broken family. Catch ups with the Starks. Baby Morgan, who got older each time and Carol didn't like it, staring in awe at the glowing lady. Pepper, who's smile lit up the room, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Tony, who still mourned the loss of his mentee, bringing her into bone crushing hugs that got ever so slightly weaker each time.

When he died, Carol was lost. She had Maria and Monica and Nick back, but at the cost of Tony's life. It was all tainted, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry with the man. She didn't get to see Peter Parker at the funeral, only met him once in the midst of their war. He was a kind boy with a strength almost equal to her own. She instantly found herself vowing to protect him at all costs and she knew that'd mean mentoring him when he was ready to be a hero once more.

☆☆☆

It's a year later when Peter finally finds the strength to go back to the compound. May had called up Rhodey a while ago and asked for his opinion on the subject.

"When he's ready, we'll be waiting. He's an avenger, but we still need time after something like this." James regretted that last part when the kind woman's inquiries into his wellbeing brought tears to his eyes and a lump to his throat.

Peter said he needed a little more time. He thought he should be a normal teenager for a while because,

"It's what Tony would have wanted."

When the day came, May was beyond apprehensive. Peter had been more fidgety than usual, somehow, so much so that she could practically feel the sickening vibrations of excitement and anxiety. She drove him to the compound with tensed shoulders and nervous glances at the passenger seat. Peter smiled at her each time, it hurt to go there with the guarantee of no Tony but he was ready to be back to his normal as can be superhero career. May had to resist the urge to walk him to the door with two strong hands on his shoulders. He could practically see her thoughts and took her hands in his when he was out of the car. She walked him in, greeting Happy with a smile as Rhodey pulled Peter towards the meeting room. They didn't say goodbye. Didn't have to.

"Alright, kid. Now, we're gonna ease you back in. Most of us are away on business, but there's somebody who's looking forward to meeting you. Properly, anyway." He held the door open for him and the blonde lady, Captain Marvel he vaguely remembered her being called in the letters Tony had written for him, turned around.

"Hey, Peter Parker." She smiled. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the small flashback of the battle and let the grin tug the corner of his lips up.

"Captain Marvel?" His words dripped with adoration.

"Please, call me Carol. Captain Marvel is my mother." She joked before backtracking at the incredulous look on his face. "No. Um, not really. I was just joking. All human, you see. Just absorbed the energy of the tesseract so now I can do this," she points a clenched fist at the wall and a photon blast leaves a scorch mark.

"Come on, man. I thought we stayed in contact because we're both the only no nonsense avengers." Rhodey groaned.

"We are, but, James, there's a child in the room. Unlike you, I'm great with kids." She replied coolly, bumping shoulders with Peter.

"Okay, one, I'm nearly eighteen-"

"So still a kid." She interrupted, but was swiftly ignored by the boy.

"And, two, your name is James?" He laughed as Rhodey grumbled something about a headache and walked out.

"Carol Danvers at your mentoring service." She bowed, grinning.

"You're going to be my new mentor?" He asked, shaking off the waver in his voice.

"I mean, I know I'm off world a lot but yeah. I don't see why not. I'm the best influence here. You're basically as strong as me and your webs mean you can fly. Kind of. You get what I mean. The only difference is, I can shoot the power of an infinity stone out of my fists." Peter's eyes widened in awe. The beam on his face ached and he thought it was physically impossible for it to grow anymore. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled like this so genuinely. However, the lightness of the air quickly evolved into a serious atmosphere as she sat down and motioned for him to take a seat. He complied immediately, heart freezing in fear of what was to come. "Tony told me a lot about you," and there it was. He sucked in a deep breath and knew his new, out of this world, insanely cool mentor was watching him deteriorate. "Hey, hey. Take a deep breath. Heroes are allowed to be scared. The best ones usually are." She smiled kindly yet sadly. "Do you want me to carry on?" Peter nodded, steeling himself with the necessity of hearing what was to be said.

"I do." He confirmed.

"He told me how brave you are, how strong and kind and respectful. How you'd do anything to please him, but you weren't afraid to stand up to him when he was being stubborn. He admired you more than he'd ever get to admit. Said his biggest regret was not telling you how much you meant to him when you were alive. He loved you, Pete. And, not to make this about me or anything, I knew I would to when you were polite enough to introduce yourself to me whilst holding the doom of the universe in your tired arms." She stood abruptly as her — was that a pager? — pager beeped. "I have to go. Rhodey has your way of contacting me whenever you need me. Whether it's life threatening stuff or you just need to talk, please get in touch." She pulled him into a newly comforting embrace before ushering him out of the door. "I want to meet this 'hot aunt' of yours." He found yet another smile forming on his face.

Happy stopped mid-sentence and looked over May's shoulder. She turned around, fearing the dejected look she was sure to see on Peter's face and the furrowed brow on Rhodey's. Instead, she found her grinning nephew next to a woman who seemed to be glowing. An expression of pure amazement tugging at his face.

"Hello?" May offered her hand. Carol took it, pulling a face of approval.

"You must be the wonder aunt, May Parker. You raised a wonderful boy and the world's safer for it. Thank you." Carol noticed they were still holding hands and blushed slightly as she coughed, retracting her gloved hand.

"Um, thanks?" May asked uncertainly as an inexplicable smile spread across her face.

"No problem. Sorry this has to be an abrupt meeting, but too many planets to save and too little time to save them. Bye, Peter, May." She nodded before retreating to the doors.

"Who's that?" May asked as they watched her shoot off into the sky.

"Carol Danvers. My new mentor." Peter looped his arm through May's and began recounting the wonderfully bizarre encounter he'd just had.

#endgame spoilers #endgame #avengers endgame #spiderman ffh #ffh #spiderman far from home #far from home #captain marvel #carol danvers #brie larson #tom holland #tony stark #peter parker #spiderman #iron man #ironman #ironfam #ironfam fic #iron fam fic #iron fam #iron family #irondad and spiderson #irondad #iron dad and spider son #iron dad #may parker #aunt may #marisa tomei #james rhodes #rhodey

[nancywheelxr]

in those happy seconds ( read on AO3 )

for @umbrella-babies​

Helen is still studying her, and for some reason, this moment of hesitation strikes Vanya as strangely defining– like a die is being tossed up in the air and reality is shattering in six. “What’s your name again?”

“Vanya."

“Okay, Vanya,” she says and the timeline settles around them in their one-sixth of the lot. Vanya shivers as if feeling the ripples. “Let me see it.”

“What?” Vanya blinks uncomprehending, several copies of her do the same in the mirrors.

“Play it for me,” Helen spells it out, sounding irritated for having to do so. Her eyebrow twitches. “Go on, I don’t have all day.”

*

or, Vanya accidentally gets a grumpy private tutor and it changes everything.

“It’s those runs in the Stravinsky. I’ve been hacking at them for weeks and you just make– ”

“Make them look easy?” Helen guesses, pity coloring the tip of her tongue, and Vanya regrets speaking in the first place. But–

Helen is still studying her, and for some reason, this moment of hesitation strikes Vanya as strangely defining– like a die is being tossed up in the air and reality is shattering in six. “What’s your name again?”

“Vanya.”

“Okay, Vanya,” she says and the timeline settles around them in their one-sixth of the lot. Vanya shivers as if feeling the ripples. “Let me see it.”

“What?” Vanya blinks uncomprehending, several copies of her do the same in the mirrors.

“Play it for me,” Helen spells it out, sounding irritated for having to do so. Her eyebrow twitches. “Go on, I don’t have all day.”

“Oh. But here?” A roll of the eyes. The stop wasting my time kind. “Ah. Alright, then, sorry.”

The violin case is set in the counter and Vanya breathes in relief to see her fingers aren’t shaking. She takes a deep breath. Music fills the bathroom, quietly smooth, the notes shrinking in themselves but playing out obediently on their way up, and Vanya nearly stutters in the same place she always does.

Helen purses her lips, raises a hand to stop her. “Your wrist,” she moves to circle it with her slender fingers, perfect red nails digging lightly on the skin, and her touch burns a little. “It’s too stiff, you need to loosen up,” her thumb brushes circles on the underside of Vanya’s wrists.

It works, to a degree, even if everywhere else in Vanya tenses up. “That’s better,” she says, “try again.”

Vanya tries again.

And this time she doesn’t stutter so much as deliberately visualizes the words before speaking as Diego does.

She smiles.

“Thank you–”

“Not yet,” Helen clicks her tongue, eyeing critically her bow. “I need to hear the rest. Come on.”

“You mean…”

“You wanted my help, didn’t you?” She raises one eyebrow, bags in hand and door propped open. “The stage is clear for the next hour. Or do you have something better to do?”

Again, Vanya has the feeling this a deciding choice, like two roads are branching out right under her feet. The side that’s been itching to reach for her meds is urging her to slip out the door and leave Helen behind without a second thought.

Her other half, though, the one that had her speak up earlier, it whispers a trembling why not?

Somehow, against all odds, Vanya chooses to listen to that tiny little voice. It did work out kind of well so far, after all.

She follows Helen out the door.

*

It’s an hour and a half later when the click-clack of heels interrupt them and Helen sets her bow down, the melody easing to a stop.

“Allison?” Vanya frowns. A hundred scenarios flicker through her mind, terrible doomsday play-throughs, and she should probably have taken her meds half an hour ago, but Allison isn’t looking like a disaster just befell their family.

If anything, she looks a little dazed.

“Hey, that was beautiful,” she smiles, stopping at the edge of the stage, not climbing up. “Sorry for the interruption,” her sentence ends with a sort of a question, eyes darting from Vanya to Helen and back.

“It’s fine, uh, thanks. This is Helen,” Vanya introduces with an awkward smile, unsure how to properly introduce her, “she’s first chair here in the orchestra. Helen, this is my sister, Allison.”

“Nice to meet you,” Helen nods politely, finishing to close up her bags, violin nowhere to be seen. She tucks her hair behind her ear, head held high as she stares Allison down with the same critical eyes she had turned at Vanya earlier in the bathroom. It’s strangely comforting.

“Nice to meet you too,” Allison echoes, sounding slightly taken aback by the lack of fawning over. Vanya nearly snorts, unable to picture Helen, so poised and prim, fawning over anything. “Sorry,” she turns her attention back to Vanya, “it’s– can you come back to the house? We’re having a family meeting.”

“And you guys want me there?” Vanya can’t help shooting back, bitterness and skepticism slipping along the tail end of the words.

“Of course,” Allison says, reassuringly, like they hadn’t all made it very clear the Academy is not her home anymore. Although, to be fair, had it ever been, really? For any of them?

But Allison is throwing curious glances at Helen, and Helen has already climbed down the stage stairs, pausing beside her to look up at Vanya. “Practicing won’t help if you don’t stop hiding,” she tells her in lieu of goodbye. To Allison, she gives another polite nod and a tight smile.

Vanya watches her leave all the way to the exit door, sunlight spilling pale in the theater floor.

“She’s… interesting,” Allison finally settles on, frowning mildly, “a friend of yours?”

“Not really,” Vanya shrugs, hopping down the stage to carry on this conversation less awkwardly. Her ankle protests, but she bites her lips and doesn’t flinch. “Just an acquaintance. You were saying?”

It feels kinda good to leave Allison confused and for once in their lives, outside the loop, even if it’s on something so insignificant as orchestra rehearsals. “Right. It’s about Mom. But look, about yesterday–”

Allison launches into an apology that sounds surprisingly sincere, and Vanya sighs, resigning herself to forgive and forget.

*

Later on, after Vanya leaves the Academy bloody and bruised and with a familiar ache in her ribs, the one that she’s carried around for about as long as the Academy stood, she wanders the streets aimlessly.

Adrenaline is running off his bloodstream and her hands are shaking, but somehow her feet bring her to the theater and the janitor had given her the keys to the front door last week when she had accidentally stayed practicing long after closing hours again.

It’s dark inside but she doesn’t bother turning on the lights.

Vanya lifts her violin and plays Stravinsky until the pad of her fingers and burning and strangely, all the dust has fallen off the ceiling.

*

This is how Helen finds her the next day: sitting blankly in the front row with her violin beside her in an empty theater.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” She sounds almost worried, more worried than Vanya has ever heard her and that’s counting the time a spotlight fell off in the back during rehearsal. She must be looking exceptionally terrible, then. “Did you get mugged?”

“No– sorry, I–”

“You’re bleeding and you look awful,” Helen clicks her tongue in disapproval, and Vanya kinda wants to laugh at the situation. Not even when she’s looking this pitiful, Helen is willing to cut her some slack. “I can’t think of why you should be apologizing to me.”

Vanya huffs a snort, quiet and barely there, and rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands. “It’s been a long night.”

“I can see tha– did you stay here all night?”

“Maybe,” Vanya admits, steeling herself for the torrent of insults that are sure to come. This is pathetic even to her standards, so she can only assume what other, less screwed up people, would say. “It seemed better than my apartment.”

“Jesus, you’re a mess,” Helen murmurs, but her fingers gently trace the edges of Vanya’s bruise, turn her head from one side to the other as if taking stock of her injuries. “It doesn’t look too bad. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep, so I won’t worry about concussions. Come on, we need to get this cleaned up.”

Vanya’s eyebrows furrow. “Why are you being nice?”

“Because you look like shit,” she says plainly and it’s the first time Vanya heard Helen say something that doesn’t sound like it could come out of some queen’s mouth. “And you’ll slow rehearsal down like this. Come on, chop-chop, kitten.”

With little else to do and not really in the mood to cause a scene, Vanya follows Helen into the nearest bathroom, standing stock still near the sink as she folds a paper towel in four and dabs under the faucet. “So. What happened to you?” Helen asks, face a mask of cool concentration while cleaning dried blood from Vanya’s forehead and brow.

“Some people broke into my house– well, my family’s house– last night,” she corrects herself, recounting the events of the night with the dispassion of someone still half in shock. “They were looking for my brother, I think.”

Helen’s fingers misstep in their slow conquest of clean skin. “And what did the police say?”

Silence.

Vanya is pretty sure no one called the police.

“You didn’t call the police?”

“We– my siblings fought them off,” she shrugs, careful not to jostle either of them too much. “And I doubt the police would have much to say. The people that try to hurt us tend to be a little too much to the police.”

“Right,” Helen snorts, throwing the now reddish paper towel in the garbage and picking up another. “The Umbrella Academy.”

“So, you, uh, did hear about them,” Vanya tries not to sound as disappointed as she feels. Even if Helen isn’t her friend, or even all that nice to her, it had been, well, nice to have someone finally not go starry-eyed over her family.

“Of course I did. I didn’t grow up in a cave,” she rolls her eyes, huffing almost imperceptively. “I just don’t generally care as a whole about foolish things. Like wannabe superheroes from the 90s. It was never my thing, anyway. I had better things to do with my time.”

“Like learn violin?” Vanya asks, once again equally relieved and grateful. A bit guilty, too. Most people aren’t glad to have their family dismissed like this.

“Like learn violin,” Helen agrees, lips twitching in a ghost of a smile. Then, surprisingly, she glances down, hands faltering. She looks chagrined. “I’m sorry, that was probably rude of me. Insulting one’s family after they’ve just been attacked is crossing a line, even for me.”

Surprising herself, Vanya lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s fine. I, uh. We’ve never been exactly close,” she bites her lips, wincing at the cut she had forgotten was there, “let’s just say I was also learning violin while they were being superheroes.”

Helen smiles.

“Very well, then,” she steps back, discarding the last of the towels, and examines her work. Vanya takes the opportunity to check herself in the mirror. The blood is all gone, revealing what must have been a small cut to the side of her head that has been covered with a bandaid, and the bruising is almost imperceptible. Her busted lip looks like it’s already healing. “All done. No one will call the police if they see you now.”

“You didn’t,” Vanya points out, tentatively touching her bruised eye.

“I’m not as inclined to help or go into hysterics as the general population.”

“Thanks,” she grins hesitantly, and Helen waves her off, fixing her lipstick in the mirror like she hasn’t spent the last fifteen minutes helping Vanya look less like a shell of a person.

*

After rehearsal ends, Vanya doesn’t mean to linger, it’s just that the zipper of her case is being stubborn and everyone else is always so eager to leave as soon as the conductor dismisses them, so yeah.

To an outside observer, it might look like she’s lingering.

“Why are you packing up?” Helen frowns in her irritated tone of always, her own violin still tucked neatly in her shoulder. “The concert is in less than a week.”

“Oh,” Vanya drops the strap of her bag. Something is bubbling on her chest but there’s no time for her to study it too close, not when Helen is motioning for her to hurry up already. It’s not disappointment, though, or annoyance, far from it. It’s warm and light and better left alone. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she chides, huffing, “you do it too much. Words lose meaning if you say them too many times. Now, come on, let’s work on this compass, you’re losing tempo here and it’s messing up my rhythm.”

*

They meet up at her place the next day and Vanya cancels all of her afternoon classes.

The new student, Leonard, calls over and over and leaves many voicemails she doesn’t listen.

It’s kind of creepy, and when Vanya tells Helen she’s thinking of dropping him, she agrees that might be for the best.

*

It feels almost like a routine at this point.

*

“So,” Allison says when they’re out for coffee, grinning mischievously, “how’s your acquaintance?”

“Who? Helen?” Vanya shrugs, sipping her coffee. Her cheeks feel warm and her stomach flutters, but she chalks it up to the coffee. “She’s uh, fine. She’s been helping me with rehearsal.”

“Hm, that’s nice of her,” she points out, an eyebrow raising in that way that means she thinks a few words other than nice would perhaps work better there. “And she didn’t strike me as particularly nice the other day.”

Her stomach does a strange flip and her lungs seem to forget how to properly work for a second there. For some unfathomable reason, Vanya finds herself flushing. “Yeah, nice is not exactly her thing,” she smiles sheepishly, unsure of what else to say, “but I guess? It’s– I don’t know.”

Allison softens, giving her a gentle look. “Hey, you do know that it’s okay, right? We don’t care– whoever you love, that doesn’t change anything.”

Vanya knows her eyes must be as wide as saucers but there’s little she could do about it because what the hell. “Where did that come from?”

Allison blinks, taken aback.

“Not that I don’t, uh, appreciate it,” she backtracks, taking another sip of her coffee and tasting none of it, “but I just don’t get it why to bring it up now.”

“Well, I only meant,” Allison frowns a bit, like she’s working on a particularly hard puzzle, “it looks like you and this woman are hitting it off, sort of, so you don’t have to worry about us.”

Apart from the time-traveling assassins, Five’s apocalypse, and their general existence, Vanya adds dryly in her head. “That’s. I mean, thanks, but we– Helen and I, we’re barely even friends.”

Now, the look Allison gives her is equal parts amused and pitying. “Of course,” she says, and lets Vanya change the subject.

Yay, sisters indeed, she supposes.

*

If Vanya stays up all night thinking it over, well.

It doesn’t have to mean anything.

*

“Do you like playing?” Helen asks her one afternoon, eyes stern and lips pursed. She has her violin on Vanya’s couch, and she’s been listening to Vanya go over their piece over and over. “Because it doesn’t sound like it.”

“Of course I do,” she feels the need to defend herself, her frown tethering at the edge of a glare. After five days, her awkward stage has mostly faded away and it’s easier to snark right back at Helen. Sometimes, she even manages to bring out a surprised smile out of her with it. “It’s all I've ever known.”

It’s what makes me special, she doesn’t say but something about the way Helen shifts in her chair, head tilting to the side, tells her she heard it anyway.

“Then play like it. Right now, you’re playing like a scared 13 years old girl,” she says, her tone kinder than her words. Helen is a firm believer in tough love, Vanya has accepted this fact by now. Still, she gives up pretending her words don’t sting a little, they’re too on the nose, after all. “Look. Do you want to be third chair forever? Because at this rate I will have to tolerate Miranda as second chair for far too long.”

“Miranda’s good,” Vanya chooses to say instead of focusing on anything more confusing in her sentence.

“Yes, she is. And she always skips the last note in the second compass because she can’t change positions fast enough and thinks no one will notice it. She also doesn’t love music half as much as you. To her, this is little more than a hobby that went above expectations.”

Vanya doesn’t mean to stare, but she thinks Helen in complementing her and her heart is doing a thing where it beats too fast, too offbeat, and she doesn’t know how to keep up with it. “Oh,” she mumbles for lack of better words.

“You can do better, is all I’m saying,” she continues, and Vanya could swear her cheeks are tinted red, but that’s probably the sunlight coming from the window and washing everything in orange-ish reds. “But you have to play like it. I can tell your passionate about music, so stop running from it and let it flow through you instead.”

“I don’t know how,” Vanya confesses. It just slips from her lips while she’s too busy watching the light reflect off Helen’s hair, framing her against the sunset outside.

Helen softens. It’s almost imperceptible– a tick of a twitch and her brow smoothes out, lips easing into a slight smile. You see, Helen’s bark is loud and spiky, but it’s on her silences that she says the most truths and with the experience of someone who’s been outside looking in for all her life, Vanya is getting good at reading them.

“Close your eyes,” Helen says, and Vanya obeys. “Now play for me.”

Wordlessly, Vanya does.

In her eyelids, the image of Helen smiling on her couch, her legs tucked under her and a cup of tea in her hands, stays burned sharp into focus, and if his Helen was half as beautiful, Vanya understands why Paris would let Troy burn for her.

*

“Find your passion,” Helen tells her before the concert, and in a rare show of affection, squeezes her hand. “And play it like a declaration.”

*

The lights dim into darkness and the spotlights blind her to the audience, but Vanya watches Helen unabashedly– it’s all she sees, really. Her heart is bursting into fireworks and her ribcage is decorated with fairy lights.

Oh, she thinks, and plays it, indeed, like a declaration.

*

Later, after it’s all said and done, and even the audience has filed out, scattered in the block around the theater, Vanya lingers purposefully at the exit.

There’s a litany of texts from her siblings, but Vanya leaves it unread for the time being.

What she has to say is more important than whatever trouble they have found themselves in, and besides, if it were truly pressing, one of them would have deigned to call.

“You’re still here,” is the first thing Helen says as she steps out the door and catches sight of Vanya leaning against the wall, violin case at her feet. Then, “you were great tonight.”

It makes Vanya grin, ducking her head for a moment before she remembers the decision she made during the concert. “Thanks,” she mimicks Helen’s voice from what feels like so long ago in that bathroom, dismissal and all.

“Okay, I deserved that,” Helen laughs, and she must still be high on the applause and the lights and the thrill of the performance because she sounds breathless. “But seriously. Miranda’s got nothing on you.”

“It was all thanks to you,” she reminds her, hands itching to reach for warm skin and the moonlight is caught impossibly on her hair.

“Don’t sell yourself short, kitten,” Helen clicks her tongue, setting her case down beside Vanya’s, and stops in front of her, close enough that Vanya could count her eyelashes if she wanted. “If you go on like this, I might have some competition next audition.”

“Should I apologize here?” Vanya raises her eyebrow, feeling bold for no reason other than the breathlessness that hasn’t left Helen’s voice yet.

“No, I like competition,” she says easily, and kisses her.

Vanya tastes the champagne that the crew had opened right after curtain call, and the apple she knows Helen always carries with her when she knows they’ll be running late, and she tastes all the hard runs in Stravinsky and all the high notes she has to strain to reach.

It’s every love song she ever played and it’s every note she ever got right.

Her hands have found their way to Helen’s hair and waist and Helen is clutching Vanya’s suit with white-knuckles when they pull back. Vanya draws her closer. “Hey,” she bites her lip, half-afraid this will shatter if she looks away.

But Helen seems to be just as dazed, kissing the corner of her mouth, and then closer to her lips, swallowing the next what now that tries to slip past. “Now,” Helen echoes, fingers trailing down to rest on Vanya’s hips, “everything.”

#the umbrella academy #vanya hargreeves #helen cho #vanya x helen #tua #tua fic #tua fanfic #the umbrella academy fanfic #let vanya have a girlfriend #tua fic tag #vanya and allison brotp #vanya/helen tag

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #228

“blood on her skin, dripping with sin, do it again, living dead girl.”

How many sugars do you like in your tea? Man, I find A LOT of tea or coffee questions in surveys. Anyone who reads these knows by now I hate tea. Ever heard of a band called The Dresden Dolls? I fucking love "The Gardner," but it's the only song I know. What was the last movie you saw that made you laugh out loud? Idk, I watch movies so rarely. Who’s your favorite superhero? Deadpool, if you count him (technically an anti-hero, I kno). Otherwise, I don't really know. Possibly Spider-Man. What does your regular attire consist of? Pajama pants and tank tops lmaoooo. Popsicles or Ice cream? Ice cream. Are you good at solving math problems in your head? It's almost impossible for me to. Even simple addition. What kind of M&Ms do you like best? Normal chocolate ones. What is the last thing you tried on in a store? Uhhhh I think formal shirts when I was actually working on getting a job... Are you comfortable enough around your friends to change in front of them? No. Does your best friend wear makeup? No. Have you ever dated someone in secret? No. How do you get splinters out? Tweezers. Do you ever send people good morning texts? Sara sometimes. Is there someone who makes you blush when you just say hi to them? No. Do you kiss your pets? Of course. Why did you go to church the last time you went? My then-friend was having a serious "reborn" and devout Christian phase. Who’s the richest person you know? I don't know. How old is the oldest person you know? I also don't know. 90-something. Who's the last person who asked your name? My math professor needed a refresher when handing out test results. Have you ever been so drunk you couldn’t even talk right? No. Do you know anyone with a million middle names? I know someone with three or four. Do online dating sites ever work? For some people. When you were a teenager, did your parents set rules about dating? No. Have you ever lived with a person who you tried to avoid at all costs? No. Have you ever committed a crime that directly harmed another person? No. Did you grow up in an urban, suburban, or rural area? I guess suburban/rural mix? Which disease do you personally think is the most horrible? Alzheimer's. What is your worst childhood memory? I mean it depends on what stage of childhood, but I'm going to assume you mean like, pre-pre-teen years. In that case, just my parents fighting. Do you remember where you first drove to after getting your license? N/A What did you get into trouble for the most when you were a kid? Fighting with my little sister, probably. What is your biological sex? Female. What is the oldest gaming console you own? A GameBoy Advance. Of all the houses you’ve lived in, which has been your favorite? If you excuse the bad memories, my previous one. Do you get sunburnt easily? Oh yeah. What’s the color of your front door? White. Your favorite ice cream flavor: It alternates between just plain chocolate and vanilla. How many people have you been really in love with? Twice. Your favorite song at the moment: "Necessary Evil" by Motionless In White feat. Jonathan Davis. What’s most important for you? My well-being. Do you snore? No. What are you looking forward to right now? Mark's next big project comes out October 30th and I can't physically wait, but after that, all I care about is December getting here so I can go up to Sara's. What’s the earliest you’ve ever had to wake up for work? N/A Do you use reusable shopping bags to reduce waste? No, but I wish... I don't do the shopping in my house, so it's not really my decision. How many times have you moved? Three times *really*, but you could kinda say four when Jason, me, and our two friends/another couple moved into an apartment together; my name was in no way involved as being an official resident, but it eventually came to a point where I was there every day and night for quite a while. Do you know anyone who has changed their first name? Yes. Do you know anyone who has been on life support, and survived? No. Do your parents have a strong relationship together? HA HA fuck no. They've been divorced since I was like 16. Have you ever read any of Charles Darwin’s works? No. Do you think there are more dimensions than what we’re able to perceive? I lean towards no, but it's possible, sure. Does anyone in your family have schizophrenia? Yes. Do any of your neighbors have loud children? No. Who would you say is your hero? Mark, my mom, Sara. You can only shop at one store for the rest of your life where would it be? If you're talking about in order to buy everything, from food to clothes, I'd have to say Walmart. Do you text type or do you type out all your words? Mostly the latter, but I'll use "lol," "otw," stuff like that sometimes. Have you ever given money to a homeless person? No. I'mma be real honest, I don't think I ever would. I just DO NOT trust people. It's fact that the money is usually used for alcohol and drugs, and I've seen news of more than enough posing assholes. Who are you living with? My mom and pets. What are your opinions on colored contacts? Cool as fuck, wish I could wear them. Are you comfortable with your body? Fuck no. What is one thing in your life that is no longer there, that you miss? A social life. What do you believe is the best thing about being a kid? No responsibilities. Life is just simpler. Last time you had a s'more? Shortly after Sara left when she visited. We had leftover stuff so Mom and I made a few. Do you like peppermint candy? Yeah. Do you like spearmint or peppermint gum better? Peppermint, I think. Do you prefer fruity flavors over minty ones? Yes. Do you have a little Pink brand dog from Victoria’s Secret? No. What is the last thing you blew? Idr, I'm sure some kind of food. What’s the last gift you received? Sara got me a mug with a super relevant Markiplier quote sobs- What did your parents do today? I don't live with my dad so idk, but I know my mom's at work. What is the symbol for your type of computer? It's just the brand name. Do the clothes you’re wearing have any type of symbol on them now? Skulls. Do you like peas? NO. Where is your favorite place to be massaged? I wouldn't know, but probably my shoulders? Do you like composition books, or spiral notebooks? Spiral notebooks. The person you like, what color eyes do they have? Brown. So what is your favorite physical feature about that person? She has a freckle on her hip that is so fucking cute. What kind of four wheeler do you have? I don't have and never have had one. Do you live where there are a lot of cows? Sure, I guess. What is your favorite animal with spots? Probably snow leopards. Give me your opinion on sports. I don't have a problem with them (save for like, boxing and ones that can seriously harm people), but I'm not into them. Why do you play the sports you do? N/A Do you actually care about your school work and what grades you make? Yes I care. Do you have a typical family, or a weird one? Honestly a pretty broken one. Do you have a favorite letter? Probably "z," particularly in cursive. From the room you're in can you hear a door shut when someone arrives there? Sometimes. What states have you been to in the past year? Just NC and Illinois. Well, I obviously flew over other states, but I've only stayed in those two. Have you ever sleepwalked? I have not. Do you want children? Why/why not? "Hell no. I don’t like kids and I don’t want the rest of my life to be centred around one." <<< That's a great description for myself as well. I know I would be a fucking awful mother, too. Not as in I'd be mean to my child, absolutely not, it's just I barely manage to take care of myself a lot of the time. I'm not emotionally fit for that job and the stress it entails, at all. And yeah, being willing to make someone else my world is something I'm never doing again. I want my attention to stay on myself, my spouse, and pets. Do you have any credit card debt? Hi, I'm 23 and don't own and never have owned a credit card. Who do you go to for relationship advice? Honestly, I don't. I look within myself for those answers, really. I think I'm pretty intelligent and aware of how to maintain a healthy relationship. There's been times I've talked to my mother about things, but yeah, she's not the greatest to talk about all that with. What was your favorite way to spend a summer day as a kid? Swimming. Have you ever been scammed? Not successfully. I think. Did you ever take a personal finance class in school? None were offered at my high school. I don't know if they are now at my college, though, but I don't think so. They need to be, and mandatory. I don't have the slightest goddamn clue how to handle money. How’s your mental health? Are you feeling well? I'm going through a rough patch right now. School is stressing me. Not having a job and struggling with money to the extreme is about to make my hair fall out. Do you struggle with acne? Not anymore. Did you have a Xanga page back in the pre-Myspace days? I've never had a Xanga. Around what year did you start using the internet, anyways? I was like, 9-10? Maybe even earlier with Webkinz and Neopets, idr. I know I started RP in 2005, and that's when I was very actively online. Do you have any uncommon interests or hobbies? A few. Forum RP is definitely the "weirdest," hence why I hide it publicly. Then there's photographing roadkill. The LOOKS Mom tells me I get when I'm on the ground next to a dead animal, lol. I've had questions, stares, and cars turn around aplenty to make sure I'm okay. I'm really self-conscious about doing it, but I really love doing it for the purpose of forcing eyes onto just how brutal roadkill can be because of us, and the validating comments I've gotten about it online pushes me to keep going with it. Well, that and of course just sincerely enjoying it. That being said, I like gore - in moderation, and some kinds are just off-limits without me getting grossed out. "Vulture culture" (the use of naturally deceased animals in some form of artwork) is also something I am very very interested in. Wet specimens of anything are cool as all fuck. There's a load of unconventional things I enjoy. What temperature do you keep your thermostat set at in the winter? Uhhhh idk, 70-something. Have you ever fostered an animal? No, but I am 110% fostering opossums once I get my own place and am authorized and properly equipped to do so. What is something you thought you’d never like, but you enjoy now? Hm. OH, ketchup. I hated that shit as a kid. Did your parents ever not let you watch any television shows as a child? Yeah, but none in exact come to mind. Basically like, MTV and stuff like that was a big no. How old were you when you had your first kiss? Who was this kiss with? I just turned 16. It was with Jason, my first "real" boyfriend. Have you ever betrayed one of your parents in any way at all? Doing what? I don't think so. What are your favorite stores to go to when you visit the mall? Hot Topic and Spencer's is like all I care about that we have available near here. Has anyone ever told you they don't like the way you run your life? Ohhhhhhhhhh, I wasn't the only one who experienced that with her. At all. Does it bother you when you comment someone’s pictures and they don't even comment you saying ‘thank you’ or comment one of your pictures? I find it rude if they in no way acknowledge a compliment, yes, but you don't have to say thanks. Just like, like/hearting the comment (I'm using Facebook as my platform here) says enough to me that you're appreciative. Now for the second half of the question, that's stupid. I don't care if someone doesn't comment on a picture. Or anything. When was the last time you had a shot? Are you behind on those right now? I had a few numbing shots into my gums when I had a cavity filled early this month/late last month since my tongue ring finally caused one. I'm not behind on any required ones. Have you ever had a really rare disease, virus, or illness? Really rare, I don't think so? When was the last time you just, genuinely went somewhere with friends? Been a looooooong time, idk. Probably not since I was still friends with Colleen. Would you consider yourself a hygiene freak, or do you not care much? Neither of those fit me. Though I'm more likely to neglect myself out of the two. It depends on how I'm doing. That hasn't entirely healed since recovery. Are you old enough to live by yourself or are you just mature enough? I'm definitely old enough, just not independent or healthy enough, or financially capable. What is one thing you stopped doing just because everyone else stopped? I've never moved with fads. Have you ever been considered the freak of your class at any time in life? "Freak" seems a bit strong of a word, but "the weird kid," probably. Have you ever been to a Sea World before? Which one in which state? As a kid, yes, in Florida. I wouldn't now as an adult; I do not even remotely support their captivity of whales. I don't know all the facts behind their business so can't speak for all the animals, and I am not against all animal captivity so long it is providing and with good purpose (conservation, education, etc.), but nothing will make me pay to support the incredibly incompetent housing and mistreatment of whales. Do you believe in any kind of magic? Is it the stereotypical kind? *shrugs* I mean I dunno, define "magic," I guess. I personally believe some form of greater intelligence created the universe, and I suppose that's "magic." The person I copied this from brought up a great point, too: Science itself can seem pretty magical, so where do you even draw the line? Ex., the evolution of caterpillar to butterfly. That shit's fuckin' wild. A living thing melts to mush and is reformed in an entirely and completely new body. With wings, dude. There are truly a lot of natural things that occur in our world that make that line we've created blurry. Are you currently working on any kind of project at this moment in time? An argumentative essay on climate change in College Writing, if you call that a "project." I haven't started writing truly in-depth yet and may switch my focus to arranged marriages (seems random, yeah, but they're from a set list of options relevant to the book we read), only because I get fucking heated talking about climate change, and our professor made a point of not "preaching," and I also have to be capable of writing a paragraph of concession, that being an acknowledgment of the opposing point and considering its views, but. I don't think I could give climate change deniers' mindset even a sliver of genuine thought. As absolutely awful and appalling as they are, at least I can see a reason (a terrible one, but you get me) like hastening procreation in arranged marriages. Okay wow rambling ANYWAY yeah, in the starting stages of writing an essay. Which do you do more: read books, spent time online, or watch television? I'm like... always online, so yeah. What do you do the most when you’re online? Listen to/watch YouTube. Which foot is bigger, your left or your right? I don't know, I've never noticed. Do you think you’re too old to go trick-or-treating? Personally I believe anyone should be able to, but by society's standards, I am. Do you have a bobblehead? No. Have you ever had a themed b-day party? As a kid, yeah. Were you afraid of heights as a child? Nope. Do you think it’s stupid when you’re dying to have someone pray that you don’t feel afraid? (I would want them to pray that I live, personally) No? I don't believe that there's power in prayer period, but it's kind, realistic, and encouraging to hope they stay unafraid. Death is natural and happens to every single living thing, so truly, we shouldn't fear death all too much. What’s the strangest thing you’ve wrapped a present in? Uh nothing? Do you enjoy and appreciate life? Or is this something you need to learn? I appreciate it very much, but I do need to learn to enjoy it more. Have you ever made a pom-pom out of yarn? No. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? N- oh wait, in Sunday school as a young child, I was Mary in one. I don't remember HOW large the role was, but I would assume it was relatively big. Do you know how to use iMovie? I've never really tried it. I could probably figure it out pretty quickly, though. Would you raise your kids differently than your parents raised you? In some ways. For one, I would fucking not spank them. What was the best part about college? I most enjoy the flexibility of my schedule. It's not a 7-hour or whatever day every weekday. If you were homeschooled, did you come up with a school mascot? If so, what? N/A How many times a day do you check your cell to see if you have a text? Whenever it vibrates. Ever wonder if the person you hate will become the person you marry? *Hated but lmao that might just happen. If you could live in three places, a year each, where would they be? Germany, California, and maybe Canada. Your choice of transportation for anything: camel, jet pack or carriage? Carriage, probably. Think of a movie and now give me that movie title: The last person said Titanic so now I'm thinking romances, so The Notebook. Quote a line from that movie: "Tell me I'm a bird." "If you're a bird, I'm a bird." I wanted that as a tattoo with my spouse one day once upon a time. Aw! A line from your wedding vows is now: I want to recite the Corpse Bride vows with my partner. I don't feel like looking them up rn. Name a song: "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Marilyn Manson, 'cuz that's what I'm listening to. What’s a line from that song? "Sure as God made black and white, what's done in the dark will be brought to the light." Name your two favorite characters from a TV show or movie: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. Lust and Envy, probably. When was the last time you fell asleep in a car? I dunno. How often do you think about death? Not too often? Do you believe what comes around goes around? Not always, but cause and effect makes it so sometimes. What about everything happens for a reason? NOPE. Can you sing? Not well. What kinds of little advertisements are on this page right now? None rn. Has something really heavy ever fallen on you? I don't believe so. Do you have any freckles on your feet? No. If you wear makeup, what colors do you usually wear? Black, when I do. I barely ever wear makeup, though. If you have more than one pet, do they ever get jealous of each other? BENTLEY DOES, particularly with guests (once he trusts them, anyway). If Teddy is getting attention, odds are he's gonna come on over and stick his nose in it. Do you have any brightly colored pants? No. Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in? The laundry room. It's either hot or cold as fuck, depending on the season. Can you solve a Rubik’s Cube? No. I'm not good at planning future steps. Do you remember the last question you were asked? What did you answer? Well, besides the last survey question, I really don't. Besides salt and butter, do you put anything on your popcorn? No.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

[journeysintowebcomics]

Worm Liveblog #97

UPDATE 97: Conspiracy

Last time Skitter seems to have managed to convince Parian to give her a chance. Does Flechette know? I’m not sure. She’ll find out sooner or later, anyway. So, what will happen now that Parian may actually lend the Undersiders a hand? You won’t find out today! Today it will be an interlude. Let’s get started!

It’s August of 1986, a couple decades before present day. What character may be this one, I wonder? It’s a female character, seems to be quite young at this point so they must be an adult right now. Let’s see...looks like she’s under some sort of treatment.

Somewhere along the line, they had stopped telling her that the chemotherapy would make her better.  The smiles had become even more strained.  There was more emphasis on making her comfortable.  Less explanation of what was going on.

Oooooh that sounds rather...terminal. Death may be coming someday. There aren’t that many diseases that need chemotherapy as a treatment, so chances are it’s cancer. Golly, the interlude just started and it’s already throwing some heavy stuff at me!

This sick girl pretends to be asleep when her mother comes, and although she hates doing that, it’s better than pretending she’s okay enough to endure conversations. The silence gives her mother carta blanche to start talking, though. That can’t be much better than what this girl hoped.

“Becca,” her mother murmured from behind her.  “You awake?”

Becca? Hmmmm...doesn’t sound familiar. I can’t remember a character that’s named Becca or Rebecca. If there’s one, I may have forgotten.

“You’ve been so brave,” her mom whispered, so quiet she was barely audible.

I’m not brave. Not at all.  I’m terrified.  I’m so frustrated I could scream.  But she couldn’t.  Everyone had painted her as being so courageous, so noble and peaceful in the face of the months of treatment.  But it was a facade, and she’d passed the point of no return.  It was too late to break composure, too late to stop making bad jokes, faking smiles of her own.  She couldn’t complain or use her mother’s shoulder to cry on because everyone would fall apart if she did.

She was their support.

That’s quite the heavy load on a deathly sick child. I can’t imagine what that’s like, having to swallow all your frustration and then realizing you can’t let it show because everyone thinks you’re taking it much better than you actually are. It’s even more harrowing when you’re a child, I guess. You know what? This is a rather fitting situation for a trigger event. The thought of death looming above you, all that pent-up frustration, the physical and mental suffering...there’s plenty of stimuli here. Since this person must have survived until the present day – I guess – then she must have survived this sickness.

“My little superhero,” her mother said.

That’s quite the thing to say in this story.

The mom’s choice of words makes Rebecca realize she’s dying. It brings the expected mix of emotions: anger, relief...especially anger at the situation and at others, for not telling her sooner she’s dying. It affects Rebecca enough for her to cry once her mother leaves. It’s dark, she’s seeing the cityscape from her window, and there’s so much she hasn’t done at her age, and so much she’d like to do again.

It struck her that she would probably never get to eat there again, never get a special kids meal with the dinky plastic toy that was meant for kids ten years younger than her.

Oh. She’s older than I thought she was. From the way she was being treated, I thought she’d be like...eight. From this it sounds like she’s like thirteen or fourteen. Still rather young, but she’s not so young people would think they can hide the truth of her situation from her. No wonder she’s frustrated!

There’s a series of things she wished she could have done. Get fast food, read a book in a series, see a movie adaptation, have a real boyfriend...it’s the tragedy of dying, you always wish you had done more than you did.

While Rebecca is letting her pain and sadness show in a manner I’m sure nobody else has, she hears a voice nearby, offering her morphine. It’s a voice she doesn’t know, and turning around confirms it’s a stranger. Hmmm...

“I’m going to increase the drip just a little, Rebecca Costa-Brown.”

Rebecca Costa-Brown? I’m pretty sure if I had seen that full name somewhere before I’d remember. Costa-Brown is quite a memorable name. So, there are two possibilities: either Rebecca Costa-Brown is a character that’s been around before but whose name hasn’t appeared yet, or she’s a character hasn’t made her first appearance yet.

The description of the person who is currently messing with the IV bag is familiar. I’m like 50% sure this was how the Doctor from Cauldrom was described. If so, then that’d mean Rebecca is involved with Cauldron, possibly as an employee. Or maybe, if this is the Doctor, she’s putting some power serum into the IV bag, meaning Rebecca would be a superhero under Cauldron’s thumb.

Rebecca confirms this person in her room isn’t one of her doctors and barely has much time for more before she feels the effect of the morphine. Guess it really was morphine and not soup of superpower. If I’m taking correctly the way this woman said ‘Not yet’ to when Rebecca said she wasn’t one of her doctors then...yeah, I’m growing increasingly more certain this is the Doctor from Cauldron.

Yup, she is. She’s here to make a deal with Rebecca, and she says she can make superheroes. This interlude is happening during the time superheroes were a rarity – in a relative term –and it was predicted in a couple decades there’d be thousands. Well, she’s not wrong, by now all over the world there must be thousands and thousands of parahumans.

By now it’s very clear the offer she’s going to offer Rebecca is to give her powers. She’s showing her the risks of giving powers. This wouldn’t be happening if Rebecca was going to be an employee and not a hero, I think. Photos are shown, parahumans that’d fit the Case 53s very easily. It’s possible it’s precursors of them, or maybe they were already being called Case 53s.

This here is still the early stages of the power serum. Two out of seven die horribly, four experience physical changes that ensure they won’t be in society anymore as normal people, and one gets powers without further consequences. Pretty low odds, all things considered. The Doctor tries to sweeten the deal by saying she could mix things up so there’d be less change of physical changes and there’d be restorative effects – meaning Rebecca here would be healed. Well doesn’t that sound too good to be true?

“I’m not asking for money.  Only that you take this leap of faith with me and help me build something.  I know the risks are great, I wouldn’t normally ask someone to face them, but I suspect you don’t have much left to lose.”

So, I don’t doubt Rebecca has been in the hospital for quite some time already. It’s to be expected, what with her very deadly illness and what not. Cauldron may be able to access to her medical records. That said, I do wonder why she was the one they picked. It’s unlikely Rebecca is the only child with a terminal illness in the entire world. Maaaaybe it’s more of a geographical thing, and she was the only viable candidate in this part of the world? Or perhaps something about her psychological and emotional state made her a better candidate than other sick children? I really wonder why Cauldron picked her and not someone else, hmmm...

The Doctor was right, though: she doesn’t have anything left to lose, she’s on the verge of death, and in Rebecca’s opinion she already looks so awful she may as well be one of the monstrous parahumans from the photos. Why not to go out in a blaze of glory or possibly be saved even if in the end she looks like a monster? She accepts.

The interlude changes to the next day. The very first line says things went well. Congratulations, Rebecca! You have powers. And it seems the Doctor was right about heightening the chances of everything going just peachy. I wonder what powers she got!

Rebecca extended one arm.  Her skin was a healthy pink, her hand thin but not so emaciated as it had been.

“I’m better?”

“I would guess so.  In truth, I’m not sure how the regeneration affected the cancer, it might even have exacerbated the symptoms.  For the time being, however, you seem to be well.”

This is going to be one hell of a thing to explain to Rebecca’s parents. One day their daughter is dying of cancer and looking like she’s in slow agony, the next day she’s heaps better and may be cancer-free. I don’t doubt the happiness of having her alive and better would triumph over most emotions, but there’ll be a lot of demands for explanations.

Since it still is relatively early in Cauldron’s projects, they don’t even have yet a way to categorize the results. They’ll have to test the serum a few more times. Well, if they need people with nothing to lose, there’s no shortage of them in the world. They’ll find all the test subjects they want.

Oh, well then! Looks like the way to avoid giving explanations to the parents and the doctors is to not be there at all. The Doctor asks Rebecca to stay with them for two years, and then she’ll be free to decide if she wants to return or not. Hmmm...I wonder if the teenager who is with the Doctor right now joined under similar circumstances to Rachel’s.

And so, Rebecca stayed with Cauldron for two years. Before I continue, let’s see what powers she has...so, from what I see here, there’s strength. There may also be some physical immunity, so she doesn’t get hurt. I’m not sure if her mental processes are better now than before, because the reason why they feel sharper and faster now could be that her illness had her so numbed she didn’t notice a decrease in mental processing speed. So far there’s nothing particularly noteworthy or unique, no parahuman character from Worm comes to mind.

So, around one year and half pass.

“Alexandria,” the Doctor called.

It seems Rebecca is Alexandria! Alright, that’s fun! This should be an interesting interlude to read. It also confirms further the ties between the big fishes of the Protectorate and Cauldron go way back.

Alexandria waited patiently as Contessa adjusted her cape, then strode through the door. The Doctor was there, of course. Professor Manton, too.  The boy with the math powers was there, standing next to a boy who was staring off into space.

Contessa may be the teenage girl who was with the Doctor. I see the Siberian’s real body is here, from the time he was an investigator in Cauldron’s payroll. There’s also...the Number Man, perhaps? Maybe he was like Rebecca – a teenager or preteen who was brought into Cauldron’s forces.

Turns out Hero™®© is here! He really was with the rest as a Cauldron hero. Legend is also here, and it doesn’t seem like Eidolon is around. Maybe Eidolon will arrive later into the group. So, by now Alexandria has managed to build a reputation of some sort. She also has a nice costume already, possibly provided by Cauldron.

The Doctor spoke, “She’s as strong as any parahuman we’ve recorded.  Flies at speeds that match your own, Legend. Near-perfect memory retention, accelerated processing and learning.”

So she does have increased mental processing. Alright!

Oh, Eidolon is here already. Alexandria was the last person to join this group, then. So, the reason why all the powerful capes and also Manton and Possibly-The-Number-Man are here is because there’s a proposal Alexandria wants to make. The newcomer wants to propose something! This should be interesting.

She starts by saying how this room has the most powerful parahumans in the world, and that parahumans would tend to be villains because of the traumatic events they go through. That’s rather true, a trigger event sure would bring all kinds of negative emotions. Taylor wanted to be a hero because she had heroic role models – the Protectorate and others of their kind. I’m sure others were like that too, but yeah, most new parahumans would choose to be villains because of their traumatic experiences.

The Doctor cut in, “And I’m producing more heroes than villains.  For now, the proportion favors us, and you’ve been able to keep the criminal element in line.  For the most part.   But even as I expand my operations, I have come to the realization that I can only produce so much.  And the rate of parahuman growth is expanding.  The next twenty years are projected to produce a total number of six hundred and fifty thousand people with powers, worldwide.”

Sounds about right. It’s a lot of people. True, compared to the total population of the world it doesn’t seem like a considerable amount, but when you consider the amount of power each one has and what they can do, 6500 parahumans are way too many. Can you imagine how awful things would be if there were 6500 powerful villains all over the world?

Since Alexandria and the Doctor worked on the numbers, I’m sure they’re right. Things like these are easier when you have fast processing speeds in your brain. At the rate parahumans keep happening, the heroes Cauldron makes will be outpaced. I find interesting that what they are focusing is in that Cauldron makes heroes. Perhaps this group isn’t the threat they had seemed at first? It could be rather interesting, really.

So, to avoid the inevitable, Alexandria says they should be what the governments are trying to do: regulate. As expected, the reactions to such suggestion aren’t of joy and immediate cooperation.

Turns out having Legend as the leader was Alexandria’s idea. Either Legend or Hero™®© would have worked. Alexandria didn’t look as kind and positive as the candidates to leader, and Eidolon was too powerful. Alexandria is also the one who thought and planned how to incorporate parahumans into society. From what I have seen in Worm I can see it worked decently well!

Looks like the Protectorate and the Wards were also Alexandria’s idea. It really is like everything in parahumans’ lives was planned by Alexandria. II never thought a single person, superpowered or not, could have so much involvement in society.

“I expect we’ll be able to employ the remainder of the plan, the eight-stage integration of parahumans with the public, because I will be in a position of power in the government.  I, my civilian self, can be in charge of the government-sponsored superhero teams within eight years.”

Could she still be holding that job, I wonder...does that mean Alexandria may have a job in the PRT in a national level, perhaps?

To give everyone else some time to think about her proposals, she prepared booklets and is willing to give them time to think about the plans. It’s a foregone conclusion there was enough support for it to happen, but I’m intrigued about if someone in the Protectorate objected! Eidolon did, of course. Did he change his mind at some point? What do Legend and Hero™®© think? So many questions and most likely there won’t be any answers!

Ah, the parahuman who can make portals is called the Doormaker. For a moment I thought I had read ‘Doormaster’. That would have been kind of cool, haha. This interlude is taking in an era when the building in Côte d'Ivoire still hadn’t been built – or at least I imagine that’s that place, because the Doctor says that will be her base of operations in the future.

“Where is it?”

“Another Earth.”

“Like Earth Aleph?  The one Haywire opened the portal to?”

 I’m not sure I like the thought of getting other Earths involved in this story, honestly...I mean, it’s okay for worldbuilding and stuff, but I hope it won’t have a big role in the story or anything. I just feel there’s too much already involved in this story to need something like alternate Earths. It would kind of...bloat the story?

Once everyone leaves, the Doctor and Alexandria talk. Turns out Alexandria and the Doctor kept a few things to herself about the long-term goals. Oho, keeping secrets, Alexandria? How devious! She’s turning out to be more calculating and with a bit of a devious streak, I like her.

“You have your end of the project.  I feel they’ll come around.  Focus on that.  I’ll handle the projected issues on my side of things.  Just need to find the right individual.  Someone I can groom, perhaps.  Between you and I, one of us is bound to succeed.”

There’s something very sinister about the Doctor saying anything about having someone to groom. I’m sure by the time things reach the present she already has someone, but can you imagine if she didn’t? Who in the present would she choose? Not Skitter, I think, because Skitter already has a million people going after her, but yeah.

Almost two years have passed, and Alexandria doesn’t feel particularly compelled about returning home. I still am curious how exactly they covered up Rebecca being gone all of a sudden. I feel bad for Rebecca’s parents – or at least for her mother, since she was the one that appeared in the story. Her daughter was dying of cancer and then she was gone or went away, and now she won’t return. That must hurt a lot.

December 13th of 1992. Something huge is coming out of the ground. It’s a bizarre, terrifying creature I’m pretty sure is an Endbringer, because the description reminds me a lot of Leviathan. Leviathan was aquatic, this one clearly is related to ground. The descriptions mention obsidian and magma.

His skin was crusted with black stone that might have been obsidian, layers of what might have been cooled magma sloughing off of him as he planted his feet on the ground and stood straight.

‘Straight’ might have been too generous.  He was built like a caricature of a bodybuilder, or a bear-human hybrid.  He rippled with muscle, his skin gray, thick and leathery like the hide of a rhinoceros or elephant.  His black obsidian horns were so heavy his head hung down.  They weren’t rooted in his forehead, but in the middle of his face, a half-dozen curved shafts of black crystal twisting their way out of his face and back over the top of his head, some ten feet long.  A single red eye glowed from between the gap in two horns, positioned too low.  His mouth was a jagged gap in his lower face, twisting up to a point near his temple, lined by jagged horn-like growths that were too irregular to be called teeth.

His claws were the same, not hands in the conventional sense, but mangled growths of the same material that made up his horns, many of the growths as large as Alexandria herself.  He could flex them, move them, but they were clearly weapons and nothing else.

Can someone send me an image of this beast, please? I’m curious to see how the fans depicted this thing.

The Protectorate is here, and so is the team of local heroes. The exact place they’re at is unspecified. The maybe-Endbringer roars, already injuring one of the heroes, and then points at that person with a claw. That’s a death sentence immediately:

The man ignited from the inside out, flame and smoke pouring from every orifice as he was turned into a burned-out husk in a matter of seconds.  His skeleton disintegrated into fine dust and ash as it crashed to the ground.

...okay, I’m sure at least one person must have ended traumatized by this sudden death. Goodness, that’s horrible!

Soon Alexandria is targeted directly, and although she’s invincible, it seems she still needs to breathe. She actually was in danger for a moment while Behemoth – it is Behemoth! – drove her into the ground with fire. Interesting weakness...to think one of the most powerful heroes could die by, say, drowning.

There’s major oil fields near the huge monster that clearly has fire powers to some extent. I’m already marking those oil fields as a total loss, I’m sure those will explode.

Behemoth doesn’t control fire or rocks or earth or lightning. There’s a better way of having all those abilities under the same name.

Her eyes widened.  Not individual powers.  Those were all the same power.  She pressed one hand to her ear, opening communications to the rest of her team. “He’s a dynakinetic!  He manipulates energy!  No Manton limitation!”

I didn’t even know that word existed. Clearly they managed to make Behemoth surrender. No idea how, but they did! Too bad I don’t get to see how, because the moment ends there. Oh well. Maybe it was like it happened with Leviathan – they hit the Endbringer enough and with enough force to convince it to turn around and leave after it caused widespread destruction.

They’d been right after all.  Dumb luck had created a parahuman as dangerous as what the Doctor could create by design.

It’s not like I ever thought Cauldron had created the Endbringers, but it’s somewhat of a relief it’s confirmed they didn’t. Also, what kind of traumatic event would create something like an endbringer? Was this the moment it emerged for the first time? Was the person who turned into Behemoth under the ground? Maybe it was a worker from the oil fields or something.

Next scene. Alexandria swears on the constitution to defend the United States. This must be a public event of some sort, and since it’s her cape identity swearing, I imagine this is the end result of her plan to bend to the government’s regulations – regulations she would impose through her civilian identity. Things went according to plan, I guess!

Her mother is here. Doesn’t seem to me like she returned home, but at least she did see her mother again. That’s the least she could have done, so I’m glad about it. So, this was the moment they founded the Protectorate in front of everyone. Judging by the way everyone is cheering, they did manage to way the public’s feelings about parahumans towards supporting the heroes.

That was a short scene, it changes to seven years later. It takes me a couple lines to realize what this moment may be: the Siberian when it killed Hero™®© because the setting is what I kind of remember it was. Alexandria feels sick because they’re leaving a victim be with whatever’s there. Despite Alexandria’s gray alignment – as far as I’m concerned – she really wants to save lives. Nice to know she has the right purpose despite everything.

Until recently they didn’t know Manton was the Siberian’s real body, but it seems Alexandria thought she was familiar. She may have seen Manton’s daughter before. It was just a feeling of familiarity. I also notice Manton didn’t hesitate to brutally murder someone he had worked before in Cauldron. Did Cauldron care one of their best creations was killed by Manton?

As anyone may have imagined, Hero™®© dying was shocking to everyone. Panic ensued on the bystanders, it was a frantic moment. It’s the kind of situation that would cause more victims, I’m ready to scroll down and see something along the lines of ‘the Siberian lunged through the crowd, tearing apart several unfortunate bystanders’.

Alexandria moved in close, hoping to stop Siberian, to catch her and slow her down, saw Siberian swing, pulled back out of the way.

Her visor fell free, clattering to the ground.  Then she felt the blood.

Saw, in her one remaining good eye, the chunks of her own face that were falling to the ground around her, bouncing off her right breast, the spray of blood.

...okay, it’s more or less what I expected, but it happened on someone I didn’t think it would. Alexandria has gotten mangled! Thank goodness Eidolon has some healing powers, but still! That must hurt!

The next day, it is said Eidolon’s healing couldn’t do much. She has lost her eyesight in one eye, it will be replaced with a glass eye. Can glass eyes see? I don’t think they do, from what little I know. Anyway, the glass eye isn’t what’s important here. What’s important is that the Doctor told Alexandria who exactly the Siberian’s real body is. Alexandria knew all along, yet Manton was left to go around and join the Slaughterhouse Nine, and killing who knows how many people. Trying to save people, huh, Alexandria? By letting a mass murderer go around freely? Well, I imagine Cauldron insisted Manton should be free to do whatever he wants, I guess.

“I suppose he thought he was qualified to oversee all that.  Despite my strict instructions that staff weren’t to partake. Or he had other motivations.  It could have been a gift from a father trying to buy his daughter’s affections.”

So what happened to his daughter was his own fault. He’s taking out his grief over whatever happened to her, and it was his own fault. It’s rather tragic, but I can’t really feel any sympathy over this because I don’t know Manton at all. The Siberian’s role in the story has been to be a mass murderer and no more. It’s a shame, really, because Manton has all the traits of the kind of villain you would feel pity at.

Eidolon maybe knew. I suppose Legend was the only one who didn’t know. Eidolon also knows about the plans and projects Alexandria and the Doctor are concealing. Whatever they are sure didn’t please him. Mr. Wildbow sure is beating around the bush when it’s about those plans! They must be quite a shocking swerve, then.

As I thought, the Doctor says they should let Manton do whatever he wants.

“So long as he’s active, people will be flocking to join the Protectorate-”

Alexandria slammed her hand on the stainless steel table beside her cot.

I’m just glad Alexandria didn’t accept that right away. I’m very glad about it. Unfortunately her objections will be ignored because Manton was left to do whatever he wanted until present day, but it means a lot that she didn’t approve at all.

“You’re right,” the Doctor said.  “I… must be more shaken by Manton’s betrayal than I’d thought.  Forget I said anything.”

As if!

It seems that by the time they saw the Siberian for the first time the Doctor still didn’t have the individual she wanted to turn into...whatever she’s trying to do. Instead she’s now thinking about making the right individual. Perhaps through giving that person powers? In that case, if someone in the present is this individual, then their powers were given by Cauldron, perhaps?

It’s present day, and bombs are raining down. I think it’s the present because this brings to mind the bombing against the Slaughterhouse Nine.

I was wrong, it isn’t. Alexandria is somewhere else that isn’t Brockton Bay, and she’s bringing people into Cauldron the same way she was brought in: find someone who is on the brink of death and offer them life. In the case that’s written right here in the text she doesn’t tell exactly what will happen, but that’s because the guy he rescued was almost dead. In Cauldron’s cells, there are many who are Case 53s, or at least that’s my guess because they’re monstrous. They all have alterations to their memories and fabricated weaknesses, too. The guy Alexandria rescued is given the dose of serum, and he starts undergoing changes. It’s not pleasant, although any powers he gets aren’t shown.

The irony of placing others in the same situation she used to be in isn’t lost on Alexandria. I bet she never thought she’d ever do this too.

Ah, now it is the present day! They’re talking about Manton and about Jack’s role in the end of the world. They just finished their talk, and were ready to stop.

The Doctor turned to Eidolon, “You want another booster shot?”

“Probably another Endbringer attack coming up, it’s best if I’m in top form.”

“A month or two, either Simurgh or Behemoth if they stick to pattern,” Alexandria said. She watched as Legend strode out of the room.  Eidolon paused, then gave the hand signal.  No bugs, and Legend wasn’t listening in.

So the other Endbringers are bound to attack someday? Goodness, one big problem more for the already filled future of Worm. Maybe the problem of knowing the number of arcs ahead is that I keep wondering when there’ll be enough time to cram all the plotlines that are being opened. My guess is that the arcs will get even longer and longer!

That aside, they’re all actively hiding stuff from Legend. He already suspects it, that’s obvious thanks to the lie detector he had been using, but I’m sure they’re hiding a lot of huge stuff. He’s not going to take it well once he realizes the extent of what they’re hiding. Heck, I’m the reader and I’m sure the secrets I have seen so far are just a small part of their bunch of secrets.

“We’ll manage,” the Doctor replied.  “In the worst case scenario, we’ll explain the circumstances, explain our plan.”

“He won’t like it,” Eidolon spoke.

“But he’ll understand,” the Doctor said.  “If the Terminus project is a success, the end of the world isn’t a concern.  And I believe we will succeed.”

I’m pretty sure that the Doctor’s plans of grooming someone and the Terminus project are the same thing. I suppose this means she got someone – possibly the guy Alexandria saved -- and now the project is underway. There’s a chance they’re different projects, but yeah, I’m reasonable sure it’s the same.

“So that leaves only my end of things,” the Doctor said.

“Coil,” Eidolon said.  “And if he fails?”

Ah, there it is. The Cauldron plotline is starting to be tied with Skitter’s plotlines. I was looking forward to finding out how it would be. Perhaps something Coil is doing in Brockton Bay is very important for Cauldron? He does have a huge money debt towards them. Maybe he would do a favor or two for them, even if money isn’t really something he cares a lot about – I imagine. He always can make more.

The end of the world is a troublesome matter because it gives no more time for projects. That should mean the Terminus project will end in the span of the next two years...interesting.

“If we assist him-”

“No,” the Doctor spoke.  “If we assist him, there’s no point.”

“In short?” Alexandria leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.  “He doesn’t even know it, but everything rests on his shoulders.”

You know what this means? Skitter is going to inadvertently ruin the Protectorate and Cauldron’s plans at once. Whatever Coil has to do or they’re relying on surely needs his resources and everything he has, so if he loses it, he won’t be able to do anything. It’s possible that simply being alive is enough for him to be of use to Cauldron, but I don’t think so. I really can’t wait to see how Skitter ruins everything and possibly dooms the world when she defeats Coil. This is going to be fun.

That was the interlude. It was pretty interesting! I was glad to see more of Cauldron, honestly they’re starting to be the most interesting force in this story. Even more interesting than the Undersiders, I’d dare to say. I hope they and their plans appear more often in the story.

Next time I suppose the next arc will start? Last chapter had a nice ending for an arc, I would be kind of surprised if the arc continued further.

Next time: next update

#worm #worm liveblog #webserial #webserial liveblog #liveblog

[quicksilversquared]

Plagg and the Butterfly Costume Outtakes: Ch 1

After Plagg gets spotted while wearing his butterfly costume, the effects just keep on growing. Plagg doesn't see everything that goes on, though. As it turns out, Plagg misses a lot.

(Side Stories/alternate POVs of Plagg and the Butterfly Costume)

PATBC: (1)  (2)   (3)     

(AO3) (FF.net)

Gabriel Agreste and the Very Bad, No Good, Terrible Day

Gabriel Agreste's day got off to an awful start when he accidentally scratched his eye while getting ready for the day. It hurt and hurt and didn't stop, so he had Nathalie set up an appointment with an eye doctor right away. He ordered Nooroo to stay put in the house before he left, and then left for the appointment, hoping for some fast relief.

He didn't get it. Instead, he got diagnosed with a scratched cornea that could take weeks to heal and was told to avoid bright light.

It wasn't exactly what one would call a good start to the day, much less a good start to the week.

Once he got back to the mansion, he was even less pleased to discover that Nooroo had wandered off. Evidently the kwami had decided to interpret the command to "stay here" to simply mean to stay in the house itself. The kwami's absence was made even more irritating by the fact that Gabriel couldn't design with one bad eye and his vision in the other eye blurry because he couldn't see well enough to get his contact in. Therefore, it would be the perfect time to go stand in his nice, dark lair and set an akuma on the city while he rested a bit.

He couldn't exactly do that if his kwami was AWOL.

Gabriel grumbled as he set off to try to find his wayward kwami. He stalked through the hallways, bad eye closed and the other eye squinted to try to make more sense of the blurry mess around him, peering around for flashes of purple. Thankfully Adrien didn't come out to ask what he was looking for, because Gabriel couldn't think of any excuses he might try to use.

Room after room turned up empty. Hallways were completely bare of magical gods. Gabriel's temper grew, as did the splitting headache growing behind his injured eye. He was starting to storm through the hallways, muttering under his breath the entire time.

Stupid kwami. Stupid eye. Stupid lost glasses that would make this entire search eons easier.

And then he found Nooroo floating along in the dim hallway near the kitchen. He snatched his kwami out of the air, scolded him, and that was the end of it. Or so he thought.

It was when he tried to transform that everything went sideways.

Instead of spiraling into his brooch, the kwami in his hands made a dash towards the window as another purple shape appeared from the shadows in the lair, sucked towards his brooch. Gabriel blinked and froze, and then his gaze shot to the fleeing kwami as something clicked in his head.

That hadn't been his kwami. That meant that someone had set their kwami in his house, dressed up as his kwami, to spy on him. The only reason that someone would have done that was if they had suspected him. Someone hadn't fallen for his ruse when he akumatized himself, and they had sent in their kwami to investigate, and now that kwami knew that he was Hawkmoth.

Gabriel caught a flash of green before the purple-clad kwami phased out through the wall of the wall and escaped.

He spent the rest of the day in various stages of panic as he paced back and forth in his lair, sword out and at the ready in one hand and controls for the missiles clutched in the other hand. He couldn't let his guard down at all, not even for a minute.

Surely he would be attached any minute. Now that the superheroes knew who he was for certain, they were bound to come charging in like the impulsive, reckless superheroes they were. He just had to be ready to knock them back and take them out fast enough that neither could escape and go tell the world who Hawkmoth was. That would just lead to a whole lot of unnecessary fighting that he didn't really want to deal with as the whole world turned against him.

So why was it that they were delaying? Were they already out telling the world who he was? Were they hoping that if they waited long enough, he would let down his guard and be easy pickings?

It wasn't going to happen. He would not let himself be taken down. Still, he couldn't stay transformed forever, especially not with a pounding headache that had just returned full force and was making it hard for him to think properly. Grumbling, he detransformed and headed back down to his office, ordering Nooroo to stay close by at all times so he could be ready to transform at a moment's notice. Even when he wasn't transformed, he was going to have to be on alert at all times.

"Nathalie, I'll need you to activate all security when you leave," Gabriel told his assistant as he downed the pills she passed him for his headache. She looked startled but nodded regardless.

"Of course, sir."

Once he was back in his room and had found his wayward glasses, Gabriel scanned every news site he could think of to see if there were any signs that Ladybug and Chat Noir had already gone to the press. The news stories were mercifully banal, and he slumped back onto his pillow in a combination of confusion and relief.

Relief because thank goodness the police weren't on their way and confusion because it had been hours, and surely the superheroes wouldn't delay. He had seen them in action up close several times, and he knew that they were hotheaded and impulsive. It wasn't like them to wait.

So why the delay? And on top of that, why had they suspected him enough to send in a kwami to spy on him?

"I don't understand," Gabriel told Nooroo as he settled into his bed for the evening. "I thought that akumatizing myself would throw them off for sure. They shouldn't have even suspected me in the first place, since that girl apparently had the book the entire time." He froze as a thought struck him. "Unless- maybe they hadn't suspected me- maybe it wasn't on purpose! I saw green on that kwami, green like Chat Noir's eyes and probably his kwami's eyes as well- perhaps I was right when I had suspected Adrien, and his kwami was just wandering around the place and I happened upon it when I was looking for you! And that means that it's your fault that I'm in this predicament in the first place!" Gabriel practically snarled the last few words at his kwami. "If you hadn't wandered off-"

"I was in the lair the entire time!" Nooroo protested, dodging his grab. "I figured that would be a good place to stay!"

Gabriel scowled regardless, partly because he should have thought to check there and partly because he wasn't actually thrilled with the idea of Adrien being Chat Noir. He had been hoping that he was wrong about his theory, that he was misremembering the degree of similarity between Chat Noir's ring and Adrien's, mostly because he didn't exactly like the idea that his own son would go against him and could easily slip away from his keepers just by transforming.

On the other hand, Adrien being Chat Noir could be quite convenient for Gabriel. All he would have to do to get the Cat Miraculous would be to send out as many tiring akumas as he could for Ladybug and Chat Noir to fight, with a break only for Adrien to tire himself out with basketball or fencing. Once Adrien was out cold, exhausted by the day, Gabriel could just stroll in and take the ring with no fuss. That would leave Ladybug alone to do the next fight, making it easier to defeat her.

And sure, maybe it would require betraying his son's trust just a bit, but that would hardly matter in the long run.

"It wouldn't make sense for any kwami to be wandering around in an outfit made to look like me unless they suspected something," Nooroo pointed out, breaking Gabriel out of his plotting. "And the Turtle is green as well."

Gabriel frowned. Nooroo was right about the costume thing, as much as he hated to admit it. But that didn't immediately mean that Adrien could be ruled out. Maybe he got curious about the book and asked his kwami to investigate even though he had seen Gabriel akumatized. "What Turtle? There's no Turtle superhero right now. It would have to be the Cat or nothing."

Nooroo shook his head. "The Turtle tends to not be a front-line superhero. Besides, he's probably too old to fight. But he'd be the one who gave Ladybug and Chat Noir their Miraculous. The cat kwami is unlikely to go nosing around much; he's far too lazy. But if the Turtle happened to hear anything about the book or thought that there was something strange about your akumatization, then he would probably be curious enough to send in his kwami to poke around."

Gabriel frowned. It was strange that Nooroo was offering up information like that. He never did that anymore, not since he discovered that Gabriel intended to become a supervillain instead of a superhero. Of course he knew that there was a Turtle Miraculous- he had seen drawings in the Miraculous book- but since no further superheroes had shown up and actually stuck around, he had assumed that a lot were dormant or lost, or so far away that the news about the situation in Paris hadn't reached them, or, after the apparent Fox visitor came through, that perhaps any other superheroes out there had simply assumed that Ladybug and Chat Noir were doing well enough on their own. He had at one point suspected that there were more Miraculous and someone guarding them in Paris, but he had finally decided that he must have been jumping to conclusions after the Fox didn't show up again. After all, if there were more Miraculous, then it wouldn't make sense to not use them.

The information was welcome, of course, and could probably be really useful in the future, but the sudden way it was offered made Gabriel suspicious. Nooroo just didn't give out information anymore, not unless he had some ulterior motive.

(Not that he didn't file Nooroo's words away for future consideration, of course. Confirmation that there was someone with any number of inactive Miraculous, likely in Paris considering how fast Ladybug and Chat Noir had first shown up? He would have to try to investigate that. If he could somehow find this Turtle person and steal the Miraculous they had, he could have more power to work with. He could even transform using one of the other Miraculous and try to parade as a new superhero so he could catch Ladybug and Chat Noir off guard.)

"I didn't think that there was anything particularly suspicious about my akumatization," Gabriel dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I went out, I destroyed things, I came back and fought the superheroes. They unfortunately defeated me, though if I had had one more second I could have cleared enough pages to capture them. I made an error in not clearing off the pages of useless items as I went. I could have gotten rid of the monuments as well once I had Ladybug and Chat Noir's attention."

Nooroo didn't say anything about that.

"Perhaps the girl lied about the book and how she found it," Gabriel mused. "Or maybe she had been reading it in a park or something and one of the superheroes or this Guardian asked her who she had gotten it from and she told them. I suppose that could have aroused enough suspicion to justify sending a kwami in. But it's been well over a month since that book was missing. Why wait to send anyone in until now?"

"Maybe none of the superheroes saw the book at all, and the Guardian has just been sending Wayazz around to explore the city," Nooroo suggested. "There have been a lot of akumatizations in this area, so maybe the Guardian knew that and was having Wayazz explore every house in the area."

"That would explain why he didn't investigate a month ago," Gabriel said slowly. He felt some of his earlier excitement fade. Nooroo was (for once) right; it made far more sense to think that this entire incident was entirely unrelated to his book's temporary unauthorized trip out of the house, which in turn meant that it wasn't further evidence that Adrien might be Chat Noir. "Still, that doesn't mean I was incorrect about Adrien and his ring. I will investigate further in the morning."

And so he did, and his discovery was simultaneously the most frustrating thing ever and somehow also somewhat uplifting, because the ring Adrien was wearing was definitely not the cat Miraculous. That meant that Gabriel wasn't constantly putting his only son in danger (or at least in any more danger than any of the other students at his school), but it also meant that his dreams of an easy win over the superheroes via snatching the cat Miraculous in the middle of the night had gone up in smoke.

Seething, Hawkmoth sent out an akuma.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't make him feel any better.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #Gabriel Agreste #Plagg and the Butterfly Costume

[luninosity]

I have put up the first of the three Demon bonus stories, if it is of interest? This one’s essentially an outsider POV. Justin did promise to go and see a certain band, before everything happened. The band might not be expecting rock legend Kris Starr and the infamous New York Demon to show up and say hi and possibly solve their romantic problems along the way...

Come read at AO3 here! Teaser below.

##

“Guys! In the audience! Tonight! Guess who!”

 The other four members of the New Regency, sprawled out in the back room in various stages of post-show exhaustion and exhilaration, collectively searched for objects to throw at their pint-sized drummer. Lee managed to summon up enough energy to telekinetically fling a pillow. Everyone else groaned.

 Zak took this as a challenge to half-pixie enthusiasm. “You’re not gonna believe it! Guess!”

 “Do we have to?” Ian had found the beer, popped one open, and appeared to be trying to drown himself in it. Ryan had draped herself across the floor and the sofa, legs up on sofa-cushions, on her back. She looked as if she didn’t plan to move for a week; Lee had flopped into the rest of the sofa and was halfheartedly playing some strange sort of affectionate foot-kicking game with her. This was utterly platonic in the way of best friends; Rye had dated Zak for a while, and Lee didn’t seem to be interested in dating anybody, or at least wasn’t talking about it.

 Adam, who’d settled onto the floor at Lee’s feet for lack of sofa-space, watched them all. His band. His family. Literally, in the case of Lee and Ian—the Patterson brothers were four years apart in age and ten times that in responsibility—but in so many other ways too.

 He ended up smiling. He generally did. The quiet one in the corner, a recent review’d called him; he did not mind that. He didn’t have Zak’s energy or Rye’s tall skinny sunflower style or Lee’s stage presence, that mixture of calm acceptance and optimism that the rest of them all followed.

 He was himself. The one who wrote their songs, everything Lee turned into powerful passionate vocals on stage, from the bubbly soda-pop fizz of first love in “Playground” to the comic-book fantasy of “Rescue,” in which he’d imagined his own personal superhero showing up at his door. From the quirky off-beat lines of “Nikola Tesla” to his own cracked heart in “Telling You,” about his parents and the reaction when he’d said I think I might be gay and then the grateful dive into safe harbor at Ian and Lee’s house upon telling them.

 He was the one who got anxious doing interviews and stuttered over the words that flowed so easily when he had time to scribble them down. Who kept out of the way, as much as fluffy ginger hair and gawky elbows would allow. He played lead guitar because Lee wanted to focus on singing, and he knew he was good, and he took pleasure in being good: the right notes, the right timing, crisp clean professional perfection. He liked that: being good at what he did, serving the band, getting to watch and be caught up in everybody else’s delirious joy. He knew they valued him; they all went out of their way to say so, and he appreciated it.

 He caught himself watching Lee a lot. That natural strength. That command on stage. Those shoulders, and rich dark skin, and dimples around that smile. Adam had been Ian’s friend first—they were the same age—and he’d always thought that schoolboy crush on his friend’s big brother would disappear someday, evanescent as a teenage afternoon.

 So far, after growing up and graduating from high school, after three subsequent years in the band and a moderate level of success, it hadn’t.

 “Yes! Guess!” Zak’s excitement, mixed with awe, bounced out to fill out the room. Kicked everybody in the heart despite tiredness. “Come on!”

 “People,” Rye deadpanned from the floor, “people were in the audience,” but she was grinning. The audience had been fantastic. The energy had been fantastic. Chants and screams and bouncing along. Crowd-surfing and singing back of choruses. Roaring for Ian’s keyboard solo.

 The New Regency had a decently dedicated following—still playing local venues, not signed with a label, but managing to do more than stay afloat—and their fans showed up dressed in the various suit colors Zak had decided they should wear to perform, mint and raspberry and lemony topaz and blueberry and cream and jet. Went with the name. The style. The fashionable ties and boots. Most of the suit-pieces had been discarded by most band members at this point, shed in sweat-soaked heaps around the room and previously on the Gilman’s stage.

 The Gilman itself had a name and a reputation. Lots of great bands getting started on that stage. Lots of names. Arbor Dei. The Enchantresses. The Martians. And now them. They hoped, anyway.

 “No!” Zak threw hands up in exasperation. “I mean yeah, sure, people, but seriously!”

 “For this amount of build-up it’d better be Jimmy Aubrey himself,” Lee said, dry but amused; Adam watched his little half-smile, watched him being fond of Zak’s exuberance.

 “Close!” Zak beamed elation at Lee, at them all. “Justin Moore!”

 Ian dropped his beer. Foam erupted across stained carpet.

 “No,” Rye said. “No way. The New York Demon? No.”

 “Yes. Sam said so, and she’d know, they’re friends, and then other people—”

 “What people,” Lee said, “exactly? And how drunk were they?”

 “I’m not making it up!”

 “Zak,” Rye said kindly, propping herself up on elbows, “Justin Moore isn’t gonna magically turn up at one of our shows. We kick ass, but we’re not, like, famous.”

#original fic #midwinter demon fic #yes i write fic for my fic #that's not weird at all #but the stories are just there wanting to be told

[ageofgeek]

Infinity War Thoughts and Review

First, I'm going to start off with a non-spoiler review (above the read-more).

So, after seeing Infinity War last nigt, I am actually traumatized. I feel like I'm in the 5 stages of grief, and I'm still in the Denial phase because the ramifications of this movie haven't set in yet. I am still so fucking shocked by what happened in that movie. And while I will undoubtedly be entering the next phase - Anger - fairly soon, I am going to try to be somewhat coherent and logical about this, so I'm gonna talk about the movie in broad strokes (again, no spoilers!).

First of all, Marvel did a great job at balancing all of those characters. I know a lot of people were very concerned about 30+ superheroes in the same movie, but they did a great job. As much as I hate to say it, they were very smart to "center" the film around Thanos, and then use his quest to get the infinity stones as the grounding for the rest of the characters and their missions.

That being said, this movie was an emotional rollercoaster. Goddammit. Tragic, gut-wrenching moments were quickly and almost abruptly followed by Avengers-typical quips and humor, and there came a point in the movie where my brain was like: "Alright, yep, that tragic thing just happened, time to wipe your tears and move on because the movie is already 10 steps ahead of you while you're still reeling.". And while that sucked for someone like me, who wants to cherish every single one of my babies, it did create an emotional environment wherein you felt the urgency. When tragedy struck, you didn't have time to mourn or think or become angry, because the stakes were too high. And I had the feeling that what I, as an audience member, was feeling, was similar to what the characters themselves were feeling. As these awful things happened to the people that they love, Thanos is still growing more powerful every second, and those characters had to swallow painfully, maybe shed a small tear, and move on. And that was one of the most tragic parts of this movie for me: the way that things had become so dire that individual lives didn't - and couldn't - matter anymore, not even to the people who love them the most.

In general, I wouldn't say that this film was enjoyable to watch - much like I wouldn't say that open heart surgery would be enjoyable - but it was definitely an incredible film. High intensity, beautiful cinematography, some stunning visual effects (and some less so - see: Thanos' bulk and height compared to the other, non-CGI characters), and there was a real loyalty to the arcs and lives of these characters. The ramifications of Infinity War will definitely need to be addressed in the 3 Marvel films that follow (Ant-Man and Wasp, Captain Marvel, and finally Avengers 4), and I'm looking forward to theorizing frantically on the Internet for the next year as to what will happen next.

And now, let's move on to the SPOILERY discussion. AGAIN, SPOILERS ARE AHEAD: BEWARE!

God, alright, let's start at the beginning.

Opening up on the Asgardian refugee ship being attacked by Thanos, I just, god. That entire scene destroyed me, right off the bat. First of all, Heimdall's death was so upsetting (and Thor's reaction to it was so painful), but here's a question that a lot of people have been asking: What happened to Valkyrie? Did she leave the ship before they got attacked? God, I really hope Marvel doesn't give her the "Sif and Jane" treatment - it seems like women in the Thor movies always just get forgotten and brushed off, which, wtf?

But moving on - fuck, Loki's death destroyed. Right off the fucking bat, I was sobbing at this fucking movie. Goddammit. I knew that it was probably gonna happen, but it didn't make it any less painful (also, oh my god, Thor screaming through the gag when he died and then crawling over to his body and cradling him, god that FUCKED ME UP). I mean, there are already a few good theories floating around which argue that Loki could have escaped death once again (i.e. why didn't Loki's corpse revert to his Jotun form after he died? Also, why would he just foolishly try to attack Thanos with a knife? He knows Thanos' strength better than almost anyone else (except Gamora and Nebula) - he would not have just barreled ahead and attacked him! There's also the point that while Hulk and Thanos were fighting, Loki went off screen, and when he returned, he was all jovial and did the ballsy (and foolish) stab move. Why would he be that confident, unless he had a plan and had already saved himself?).  But anyway, that’s enough theorizing.  Even if Loki did die for real, I will be smiling through my tears because he died a hero.  They didn’t fuck up his character development from Ragnarok - he died trying to save his brother and his people.  He died embracing his family, and all parts of his identity (”Prince of Asgard...rightful king of Jotunheim...Odinson”).  Even if he is dead for good, I’m proud of my boy.

...

Now, switch to Tony(!!!) and Pepper(!!!!!!!) jogging in Central Park, talking about their wedding and babies!!  I actually squealed during that scene.  FUCK I love them.  Also, the fact that Tony specifically mentioned that he dreamed about Pepper being pregnant makes me think that she actually is, because we’ve been told ever since Age of Ultron that Tony has somewhat prophetic dreams/visions, for some reason.  If he was right about Thanos, why isn’t he right about this?  Just saying!  (Oh god, please let Avengers 4 have Tony and Pepper’s baby).

Doctor Strange comes through the portal and we have the Science Bros reunion hug :’) God, they haven’t seen each other in 3 years, and Bruce’s confusion over the breakup of the Avengers was both funny and sad.  And Tony’s face when he says “Steve Rogers” - not “Steve” or “Cap” or “Capsicle”, but his full fucking name.  The divorce is still real and apparently, NOT RESOLVED IN THIS MOVIE because THEY NEVER EVEN FUCKING SPOKE TO EACH OTHER.  I came out of that film saying to myself, “...Wait, there wasn’t even the flip phone call?!  Bruce called Steve, and it was off screen!  What the fuck???”  Dammit, Marvel, why did you play me like this?  There better be fucking resolution to this conflict in Avengers 4.

Anyway, the first fight scene with Ebony Maw was pretty awesome, because Stephen and Wong’s magic was cool but we ALSO GOT TO SEE TONY’S NEW ARMOR!!!  Our entire theater began to cheer when his armor began to come out and aghh, it was so beautiful, I’ve been waiting 5 years for this moment!!  It seems like he still doesn’t have Extremis, but still, the nanobot armor is a great improvement (all of the phasing that that armor could do was awesome!).  And Peter’s introduction, of course, was great.  And my emotions! when Tony basically told Peter to let go of the spaceship and trust him, and Peter did and he got the Iron Spider armor!  (which, holy shit, I love it, A++).

Also, when Tony got on that ship and Pepper called and she was so upsettttt, okay, i need to move on, that was too painful

...

Switch to Vision and Wanda in Scotland, POST-COITAL!!!!  FUCK my Scarlet Vision heart in this movie was fucking fulfilled and also broken, god, I love them so much.  I just, the fact that they’ve been visiting each other for 2 YEARS and secretly dating and hE ASKED HER TO STAY AND SHE DID, fuck, I love them, why is this movie so cruel to my babies?

Ok, but also, how many fucking times does Vision get stabbed in this movie?  He gets stabbed twice(?) in the fight in Scotland, and then a third time in the woods of Wakanda at the very end.  Which, there wasn’t an explanation as to how the Black Order’s weapons were able to pierce vibranium?  I guess there was kind of the implication that the bonds between Vision’s neurons/molecules were weakening, so weapons could slip through?

Anyway, the introduction of Team Cap to fight off Proxima Midnight was pretty awesome, ngl.  I pretty much forgave them at that point (although not entirely.  Still a little mad at Cap).

...

But then they go home to RHODEY!  Which, yes, I grinned and wiggled in my seat when I saw my baby following in the footsteps of his best friend and pissing off Ross.  Although, still pissed that Rhodey didn’t put up more resistance to Team Cap before seemingly forgiving them?  Like, even if Rhodey forgave them for what they did to him personally, there’s no way that he wouldn’t have given them shit over what they did to Tony at the end of CACW.  Come on now, Marvel.  I have to wonder, based on what Don Cheadle said in an interview, if there are deleted scenes where Rhodey is more standoffish towards them at first.

...

This is where things kinda get a little muddled in my head, because things were moving so quickly, it was difficult to keep track.

At some point, the Guardians were introduced again, and they stumbled upon Thor and split up.

Thanos took Gamora because she knew where the soul stone was, and tortured Nebula to get that info out of her.

They went to Vormir, where the soul stone was, and WHAT DO YOU FUCKING KNOW, Red Skull is there.  That cameo honestly shocked the FUCK out of me.  I sat there with my mouth open for at least a full minute, that just caused my brain to short circuit, goddamn.  I was honestly wondering if they were ever going to bring him back (since the Tesseract doesn’t necessarily kill you, it’s the space stone, it just teleported him), and his appearance in this movie actually reminded me of his role in Avengers: Assemble, when he uses one of the stones(?) to become “Cosmic Skull” or whatever?  Yeah, anyway.

So, there’s no way that Gamora is dead for real, right?  Like, that’s some bullshit.  THAT.  IS.  BULLSHIT.  MARVEL.  I don’t know if Zoe Saldana’s contract ran out, but there is at least one more Guardians movie and there’s no fucking way that she isn’t in it, come on now.  Same with Groot (although that happens at the end).  Gamora’s death feels a bit more final, though, compared with the “dust deaths” that happened at the end, so I don’t know.  Dammit, that one hit me hard (and I wanted to punch Thanos for shedding that single fucking tear, lol, FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE).

...

Everyone goes to Wakanda while Tony and co. are on Titan, and the dual final battles begin.

Shuri is there (YAY!), and so is Okoye, being a badass, and M’Baku, and T’Challa!!  It’s only been a few months since we saw Black Panther, but fuck, I missed them all.

Shuri is a fucking sassmaster with Bruce (and Tony, by proxy), in Vision’s body composition (although, didn’t Ultron technically make the body, and Bruce and Tony just finished it and integrated it with JARVIS and the mind stone?).  Anyway, whyyy did this movie give me hope like that by them desperately trying to find a way to save Vision while also destroying the mind stone?  Fuck you.

Wakanda’s defenses hold up SUPER WELL, like, lol, fuck you Proxima Midnight and Cull Obsidian, if it wasn’t for T’Challa decision to open the barrier to give Shuri more time, they never would’ve gotten in to Wakanda.  And then there’s the big fight scene, which was awesome!  I loved the 3 women team-up against Proxima, with Okoye, Wanda, and Natasha.  That was, ungh, fuck, I was so aroused by that scene.  GIVE ME AN ALL-FEMALE MARVEL MOVIE, YOU COWARDS.

...

Switch back to Titan, and there was a very important scene with Stephen that I forgot to mention.  He used the time stone to look into millions of possible futures, and they only win in one of those universes.  That is SO.  IMPORTANT.  because Stephen is absolutely about the greater good, we saw that on the ship when he said that he wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice Tony and Peter for the time stone.

So the fact that Stephen then GIVES THANOS the time stone to save Tony’s life is SUPER IMPORTANT.  Because if there was only one universe, one set of events, where they won, then you better fucking believe that Stephen is going to follow that universe TO THE LETTER.  Why would he get all sentimental now to save Tony’s life?  No, there are either 2 ways to interpret Stephen’s actions: 1) In the universe where they won, it was necessary for them to “lose” first by Thanos getting all of the infinity stones.  Thus, despite what the others on Titan thought, Stephen never intended to subdue Thanos and take the gauntlet, and really only intended to eventually “give in” and give him the time stone.  Or 2) The only way to defeat Thanos is for Tony to be alive.  Tony is instrumental for Thanos’ eventual defeat, and so, Stephen thought it was a necessary sacrifice, to give Thanos the time stone in exchange for Tony’s life, and thus, the chance to defeat Thanos for good.

I’m kind of leaning towards the latter, although both are certainly possible.  The fact that Thanos KNEW Tony - specifically calling him “Stark” when they first met, and saying that “we are both cursed with knowledge?” - fuck that really points to Tony having cosmic significance here, and I am INTO it.  I’m kinda worried that they’re gonna have some sort of Harry & Voldemort link(?), where Tony has been having visions for the past 6+ years about Thanos, and Thanos has been having similar visions about Tony?  IDK, but I’m definitely gonna be reblogging a shit-ton of theories regarding this.

But fuck, when Tony was stabbed.  WHEN TONY WAS STABBED.  I literally almost threw up.  Like, I was kinda prepared for it, but fuck I really was not.  I WAS NOT PREPARED, AT ALL.  Just, his face when he was stabbed, I just wanted to cry and hold my baby and wrap him in a blanket burrito and NEVER LET THANOS TOUCH HIM EVER AGAIN.  I can’t even really talk about that scene, because it fucking destroyed me and I don’t want to think about it.

...

Wow, and back in Wakanda, we have another heartbreaking scene, fuck me in my fucking asshole.  Wanda having to destroy the mind stone, and thus, Vision.  WOW.  WOWWW I was crying so fucking hard, FUCK, why do I love Scarlet Vision so much, this movie wouldn’t have been so painful, goddammit.  I also want to wrap them both in blanket burritos, because this is so unfair.

But, the good thing about Thanos using the time stone to get the mind stone back is somewhat a good thing, because Vision’s body was no longer destroyed - he just had the mind stone ripped out of his head.  He’s an android - as long as his “corpse”/body is still intact, there’s the possibility for them to retrieve the mind stone and resurrect him.  So, I kind of have tentative hope for Vision?  But I don’t know.

...

And then.  We get to the very end.

Thor comes in and stabs Thanos (which, thank God) (also, i totally forgot to mention that whole subplot with Thor, Rocket, and Groot, along with surprise cameo, Peter Dinklage???  What the fuck?  I mean, I wasn’t complaining, but I was super shocked).

But Thanos is able to snap his fingers and then he disappears...and they all begin to turn to dust.

This was such a bold move by Marvel, I can’t even explain it.  Like, even if it all gets ret-conned and they’re all brought back to life in Avengers 4 or some shit, it’s still a SUPER BOLD MOVE to end one of your biggest movies with HALF OF THE PROTAGONISTS DYING INSTANTLY, and the antagonist seemingly WINNING.

But, another part that was very important - before Stephen faded away, he told Tony that “this was the only way”, which again, only supports the theory that Stephen knew exactly what he was doing and that this was the only way for them to win.

Honestly, watching all of them die was really painful.  Bucky, Sam, Wanda, T’Challa(?!?!?!?!), Stephen, Peter Quill, but...

As many people have already said, my heart broke when Peter started fading away in Tony’s arms.  Fuck that scene fucked me up.  As someone in the theater said, “HE’S JUST A KID, MARVEL.”  Like, goddammit.  And the fact that he felt it coming because of the spidey sense??  Wow, how much more painful can you get, I hate this!!!  And him falling into Tony’s arms, oh my god, just kill me already.  I don’t want to talk about it.  I can’t even think about it anymore.

Just.  Ugh.

...

Alright, I’m done.  That’s my thoughts.  It ended on such a sad and hopeless note, I honestly don’t know where to go from here, other than read fluffy fanfiction for the next few months and reblog the shit out of theories and metas.

FUCK.  This movie really fucked me up.

#mine #avengers 3 #iw spoilers #marvel #rant

[robininthelabyrinth]

Countless Roads - Chapter 6

Fic: Countless Roads - Chapter 6 - Ao3

Fandom: Flash, Legends Pairing: Gen, Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, others

Summary: Due to a family curse (which some call a gift), Leonard Snart has more life than he knows what to do with – and that gives him the ability to see, speak to, and even share with the various ghosts that are always surrounding him.

Sure, said curse also means he’s going to die sooner rather than later, just like his mother, but in the meantime Len has no intention of letting superheroes, time travelers, a surprisingly charming pyromaniac, and a lot of ghosts get in the way of him having a nice, successful career as a professional thief.

A/N: The timing of this is completely coincidental, this whole fic having been written over the last year or so, but this chapter happens to be Halloween-themed. So happy Halloween, everyone!

———————————————————————————-

All things considered, Len's amazed that it takes Lisa until her junior year to think of it.

Perhaps the real reason is that that's the first year Len and Mick start going to the university area to visit her. It's noticeably more high class an area than the ones they usually frequent, and Len only gives the okay because the statutes of limitation have run out on all of their currently outstanding warrants, which means that even if the cops do finger them, they can't do anything about it.

The area's also got a lot more people with a lot more leisure time than the areas Len prefers.

That's probably why Lisa had her no-good, awful, terrible idea.

"No," Len tells her, but he already knows he's going to give in. He's never been able to deny Lisa anything she really wanted. Well, nothing but the ability to ruin her life by taking up crime the way he has. Her record is clean and it's staying that way as long as Len can manage it - probably not forever, he's acknowledging it now, but he's going to hold off until there's no way to avoid it.

This, though, this isn't crime.

This is just dumb.

"C'mon, Lenny! It'll be great!"

"No."

Len glances over at Mick in hopes of some back-up, but no, Mick's grinning his head off like the goddamn troll that he is.

"No!"

"He's giving in," Mick tells Lisa wisely. "You can hear it in the growing desperation in his voice."

"You sure can," she agrees.

"This is stupid," Len argues. "Too stupid for words!"

"It'll be fun."

"No, it won't."

"Give me one good reason why it won't be fun."

"Because I see actual ghosts!" Len exclaims. "I have no reason to go to a haunted house!"

"Lenny," Lisa says with a giant grin. "That's why it's gonna be so much fun. You've never been, have you?"

"Never saw the point," Len says grumpily.

"I can't believe you've been denying Mick the pleasure all these years," Lisa says. "He wants to go, doesn't he?"

"You bet I do," Mick agrees enthusiastically.

"He only wants to go so he can laugh at me," Len argues.

"You bet I do," Mick says, sweet as he can manage with a shit-eating grin on his face. "What's your point?"

Len groans.

Looks like they're going to a haunted house.

Which apparently has all sorts of bizarre preconditions Len would never have guessed.

"What do you mean I can't bring my gun?" he asks Lisa, scowling. "I paid money for this concealed carry license."

"Money that wasn't yours," Mick points out, which, yes, but it doesn't matter; Len actually spent it. It's damn hard to find a judge corrupt enough to sign off on a gun license for a felon.

Luckily, this is Central City, and damn hard doesn't mean impossible.

"You still can't bring it into a haunted house," Lisa says firmly, hands on hips. "You might shoot one of the performers."

Len scowls at her. Sure, he's been forced to up his game recently, thanks to the mob war between the Santinis and Darbyninans that just got started, and upping his game at this stage means higher end heists, higher end heists means more risk, more danger, and more ruthlessness – and yes, sometimes killing people, especially people that threatened to back out of major jobs in the middle, people that Len couldn't trust wouldn't go running to the cops to squeal in exchange for a cut-down sentence on something else. But just because he's gotten to the 'killing people' point in his career doesn't mean that he's going to shoot innocent performers. He doesn't shoot innocents, and he would've thought Lisa would've known that.

"Out of fright," Lisa clarifies.

That just makes Len scowl even more.

"Relax, will you? It'll be fine, boss," Mick says, laughing. Officially, that's just something he uses for jobs in public, but he's started calling Len that, off and on; says it helps him remember.

He also says he likes the way Len's cheeks flush sometimes when he calls him that, but whatever. Len does not blush. He's cool and cold, damnit.

...he's working on it, anyway.

Len's newly imposed rule – you're in, you're in; you're out, you're dead – has at least and at last started getting him some respect in criminal circles, which always appreciate seeing ruthlessness when it's accompanied by success.

And Len has been successful. Other than those first early convictions for burglary, he's gotten better and better at getting away clear. The most the cops have had on him recently are a few jobs they can't pin on him and one or two misdemeanor trespassing charges.

They're starting to remember his name.

Not as much as they remember Mick's, mind you. Mick's pyromania remains as strong as ever, and during the lean times when the criminal underworld has gone underground to avoid renewed police focus – usually during election years – and there's no easy targets that haven't already been hit by others, there's more call for arsonists than there is for thieves, even highly skilled thieves.

Not that the police could pin those on so-called 'notorious arsonist' Mick Rory.

It helps that, as a ghost, he doesn't leave any DNA evidence.

But either way, all this led to one conclusion: Len and Mick are mad, bad and dangerous to know. They're the sort of people who carry weapons and know how, and when, to use them.

They do not get scared at haunted houses.

"You're gonna scream like a little girl," Daniela cackles.

"I hate you all," Len says.

"Have fun!" she sings out.

"Just for that, you're coming with us," Len tells her.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Daniela says. "Or, well, anything other than another lead on that asshole who murdered me – " Len is still looking, damnit! Serial killers don't walk around with a goddamn sign on! "—but hell yes, I'm there with bells on."

"Where are we going?" Nora asks, emerging from the kitchen.

"Len's never been to a haunted house before," Daniela says gleefully. "Ever."

"I have my own actual dead people! I ain't gonna be scared of some assholes in sheets!"

"Oh, my, you're going to be in for a surprise," Nora laughs. "I'm definitely coming."

Len rolls his eyes.

"How's your baby boy?" Mick asks Nora politely.

"College applications," she says, mingled joy and sadness at it: joy, for her son's growth; sadness, that she's not there to help him through it. She consistently declines Len's offers to give her some life to go say goodbye, though; she says that just saying something to him wouldn't be enough for her to pass on and anyway she's afraid that seeing her would only make him relapse into the anxiety attacks he'd been having for years after her death. It's a tough situation she's stuck with, and Len feel pretty bad for her, but he can't bring himself to be too upset; she's great to have around, very level-headed but with a wicked sense of humor and, at times, a temper as fiery as Mick's. "He's starting to send them out."

"Graduating senior already?" Len asks, then shakes his head at her nod. "Wow. Your baby boy's only five years younger than Lisa."

"Closer to four," Nora says. "He's nearly nineteen; he had to repeat a year due to family trauma."

Due to her murder, that is.

"See, this is why going to a haunted house is dumb," Len says to Lisa, opting to lighten the mood back up. "We have two real life murder victims right here with us."

"I'll ask Serafina to join us," Daniela decides. "She's just a hit-and-run, but it still counts. Then we'll have three murder victims to go a-haunted housing with us!"

Serafina, a law school graduate of Korean descent and non-binary gender, turns out to be more than happy to join them.

Lisa can't stop cackling with glee, and that makes everyone smile.

"I'm outnumbered," Len grumbles, and picks up the brochure Lisa obtained to figure out where he'll be driving the lot of them. "Wait, hold it! This says it's at an abandoned cemetery! I ain't going to no abandoned cemetery! Do you know how many dead will be there?!"

"It's an exaggeration," Lisa says, rolling her eyes.

"If there are any unquiet dead there, we'll protect you," Mick reminds Len.

"Nice try," Nora says.

Damnit.

The drive there is relatively uneventful – Mick watches Len like a hawk, which is thoroughly unhelpful and kind of insulting, given that Len's the one who taught Mick how to drive in the first place – and then even once they arrive, it turns out there's a line.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Len grumbles. "Not only do we have to pay for the privilege, they make us wait for it, too?"

"Grow up, babykins," Daniela says, skipping away to go gawk. "Go stand in the line."

Len goes.

He wishes he had his gun.

He wishes he had his gun even more when one of the fake tombstones (rather amusing little poems on them) shoots open and someone – or something – leaps out at them from a trapdoor hidden underneath.

The only reason Len is certain that the apparition is part of the haunted house is because everyone else in the crowd shrieks and jumps as well.

"Lenny," Lisa says patiently. "Lenny. You're very nice, very brave, jumping in front of me and all that, but you're blocking my view."

Len sighs and returns to his place in line, watching as what is now obviously a (surprisingly detailed) zombie limps around the line, groaning at people.

Mick prods at Len's arm. Len looks at him.

"I leap in front of you," Mick says. "Not you in front of me."

"It was instinct."

"It was shitty instinct. You soccer-mom-armed me! And I'm the invulnerable one!"

No kidding. Len remembers very well how Mick's invulnerability had been the only thing that'd saved their hides when they'd been dumb enough to get involved in the stupid mob war with a job that wasn't as well-thought-out as Len had thought it was. It isn't just Len getting his stupid ass kidnapped because of payments anymore, oh no, now it's the Santinis and the Darbyinians, each with a grudge and a hell of a lot of firepower. Len and Mick had gotten the hell out of the war for now, making it clear they were purely freelancers, but the war was becoming more and more all-encompassing and they'd end up having to either side with a Family or making themselves respected and feared enough to be able to scare both sides off when the inevitable came calling.

Since neither Mick nor Len has any interest in working on Family lines, that meant that these days they're focusing on establishing their own reputations.

And part of that, yes, meant using things like Mick's invulnerability to its best advantage.

"I'll let you take the real threats," Len offers.

Mick rolls his eyes at him.

Len has only ever walked by the haunted houses they'd had in his neighborhood when he was younger, the ones in the poorer parts of town that even the slums looked down their noses at, and he hadn't been impressed by the quality.

Apparently, and no one had told him this, haunted houses have seriously upped their game in recent years.

"What the fuck?!" Len shouts.

Lisa is dying. "Oh man," she cackles. "Oh, man, Lenny, your face!"

"The fuck even was that?!"

"The half-spider mutated monster or the evil scientist with the rotting arm?"

"Neither! The other thing!"

"Really?" Daniela asks, eyebrows arched and shit-eating grin on her face. "Out of everything in the hallway of horrors, the cannibal is the thing that gets you?"

"He was eating someone's face off! That’s just wrong!"

Nora cackles behind him.

"I'm glad I'm amusing the lot of you," Len grumbles. He actually is glad, especially poor Nora's been sad recently about missing all of her baby boy's important milestones. But still. A man's got a reputation to uphold, and this stupid haunted house is doing nothing for it.

And then Len jumps half a foot into the air because some demonic squid shoots out its tentacles from the wall.

"Your face," Mick wheezes. "Oh God. Lisa. Lise. Tell me there will be photos."

"So many photos," Lisa says happily, leading the way into the next chamber.

Len's idly tracking the number (this is room ten – how big is this place, anyhow?) and mentally mapping the place, mostly to keep from strangling anybody – Lisa was right to take away his gun, sadly; he's reached for a weapon at least three times so far. Still, it’s fine. Not having it doesn't make him less dangerous.

Though it does make him think that assassinating someone at a haunted housed would be a great way to go about it – an audience already geared to assume that any screams or dying noises are fake, that any bloodied corpses are special effects, that any smell is clever chemicals...

The thought occupies him a bit (mostly through the cockroach room – Lord, why is there a cockroach room?!), enough that he only vaguely notices one of the haunted house attendees, face painted white and his clothing dusted with flour, coming forward to tap Lisa on the shoulder and explain that she should follow him for the next segment.

Some multipart horror involving Lisa spitted on a stake, Len can only assume, and that's what he does assume right up until Daniela turns to ask him something and sees the guy leading Lisa away.

"Len!" she shouts. "That's him!"

"What?" Len asks, bemused. No one else responds, of course; he doesn't have enough energy to make three people as strong as Mick, and at any rate being invisible means that Daniela, Nora and Serafina don't have to pay for a ticket. Mick turns with a frown.

"Him!" Daniela shrieks. "Him! The one! The one who beat in my face, Len!"

"Wait," Mick says. "The serial killer?"

"We've already seen the serial killer exhibit, guys," Lisa calls over her shoulder.

"No," Len says, eyes going wide as he puts it together. Daniela's been on his case to find the asshole who murdered her – and a number of other sex workers in the years since – since day one. "Lisa, the guy next to you is an actual serial killer!"

"What?" Lisa asks.

"Don't be crazy," the guy next to her scoffs, putting his hand on her arm. "Come this way or you won't be able to participate in the next room's haunt."

Nora dashes forward, through the wall, and shouts, "The next room's about killer robots! No audience participation!"

"You're lying," Mick growls, stepping forward.

"Get your hands off my sister," Len adds.

The guy takes one look at the two of them and turns to run.

His mistake is in trying to pull Lisa along with him.

She spins around and knees him in the balls. "Don't you ever grab me!" she shouts.

"He's the one who killed Daniela," Mick snarls.

"Get him!" Daniela shouts, lunging at him, but she's too weak; she passes straight through and all he does is shudder.

Mick and Len both step forward, but that's when the guy pulls out a gun.

"Who the fuck is Daniela?" he pants. "How'd you know?"

"Ooooh, if I could strangle you!" Daniela hisses.

"I told you to let me bring a gun," Len bitches to Lisa.

"There aren't normally actual serial killers in haunted houses, Lenny!"

"With your brother's luck, we shoulda known," Mick says, taking a half-step over until he's blocking Len.

Len scowls at him and nudges him in Lisa's direction. He can take care of himself.

Mick scowls back.

"Will you all stop talking?!" the guy shouts. "I've got a gun!"

"Yeah, and from the way you're waving it around like a kid's toy, I bet you know how to use it about as well as your undoubtedly limp dick," Lisa snaps.

Mick and Len share a glance – only Lisa – and Mick charges forward to get between the serial killer and Lisa just in time for the guy to pull the trigger.

Mick catches the bullet in his shoulder, of course. "See what you did?" he tells her, plucking it out and waving it at her. He doesn’t bother faking the bleeding. "No sense of self-preservation, you Snarts."

"How'd I get pulled in there?" Len protests. "I ain't the one that mouthed off to the serial killer with a gun!"

"Don't get me started on people you've mouthed off to, buster!"

"What the hell is wrong with you people?!" the guy shouts, but by this point the noise and the commotion and – Len would bet – the backed-up line has drawn over some actual haunted house employees. Volunteers? Len's not sure.

Their makeup's a lot better than the killer's, anyway.

"Excuse me – " a realistic skeleton starts.

"This man was trying to get me to go with him so I could be part of the haunt," Lisa announces, pointing at the killer. "He said he was an employee here, and when I refused, he aimed a gun at me!"

The guy looks down at his hand to confirm that yes, the gun's still there.

Not for long, though; Len plucks it out of his hand - way too easily because the guy barely had a grip on it by this point, too slack-jawed with disbelief - and offers it to the skeleton. "Careful with that," he says mildly. "It's got live ammo."

The skeleton looks at the gun in horror, then at the guy. "Uh, he's definitely not one of the volunteers –"

"Maybe you should call the cops," Mick suggests.

"Fuck no," the killer says, and tries to run.

None of them were really expecting it – it's a one-way haunted house starting to fill up with people on each side, where the hell does he think he's going to go? – which is probably why he gets as far into a hidden passage by the wall as he does.

Doesn't help, of course.

By that point, Daniela's run back to Len to wordlessly beg for some extra life, which he's given her, and she uses everything he gave her in a single burst of poltergeist power, snaking out the audio-visual cables that were threaded through the walls to wrap around him.

"Asshole," she says, not without some serious amount of satisfaction. "I'm gonna love watching your trial."

"What the fuck was that," the skeleton says, high pitched. "That wasn't part of the set up!"

"A ghost," Len says innocently. "Ain't this place supposedly haunted?"

Lisa elbows him in the ribs.

It's all terribly anticlimactic after that, of course. Someone calls the police and they all have to give statements, with one of the detectives (some guy named Joe West) commenting that this might very well be the only night he actually believes Leonard Snart to have an alibi.

Very funny.

They end up charging the guy on attempted kidnapping just to get him with something, but Len insists on the fact that he's a serial killer with enough emotive force that West reluctantly calls up a judge and gets a warrant for the guy's house, where they find two of the girls that have gone missing from the streets recently, one a prostitute and the other a college student with bad taste in makeup - apparently he targeted them based on that? Fucking people sometimes. It mostly resulted with Lisa getting incredibly insulted about the guy's inability to tell a classy traditional smokey eye from a trashy raccoon or something like that, anyway, since Len's honestly got no idea what the words coming out of her mouth meant after the first minute. But the two rescued girls agreed with her, so, okay.

West goes into hyper alert after that, which is all to the good, and Len even manages to get in there that the guy's responsible for killing Daniela, though he obviously can't provide proof. They find some evidence in the guy's house, though, which means he is definitely not long for this world – through the justice system's mercy, or through Len's. He's got enough friends in prison willing to shiv a particularly sick fuck if the justice system can't bring itself to do it for them.

And, of course, a few people caught blurry images of Daniela's trick with the cables, and the line to go to that particular haunted house the next year is five times as long.

Lisa insists on going again.

Len still thinks it's stupid.

Lisa says he's just scared.

Which is totally not true.

(But do they have to keep using that cannibal makeup?!)

"You got a problem, huh?" Mick growls in the other man's face, the fierceness of his glare not at all dimmed by the manic grin that shows how much he's enjoying himself.

"Mick," Len says, long-suffering. He’s reclining by the table, a position of power. “Let him go.”

"Nah, boss," Mick says, not turning away from the man he’s got pressed up against a wall. Not that Len actually intended him to – they’ve got a reputation to uphold now, after all. They have to show that they’re willing to put their hand in when someone is screwing with one of their jobs, no matter who it is. It's all according to plan; Mick's just freestyling a bit. “See, I think he's got a problem. I think he wants to say something. That right?"

"No! No, not at all, nothing to say," the man gibbers. Mick is very large and very intimidating, even to powerful mobsters' sons like Nicolas Santini, who are notably less confident when their bodyguards get beaten up and knocked out, and they're being held up three inches from the floor by their jacket lapels. Len and Mick had nabbed three targets before the Santinis could get to them, which pissed them off, and little Nicholas had been sent to “solve” the problem through the usual bull-headed Santini approach of threats and intimidation.

He hadn’t exactly gotten very far.

A blood family member of one of the most fearsome Families in Central City, technically even a Don by their standards, and yet here he is, quivering like a bowl of jello before a pair of freelance thieves.

Very good freelance thieves.

Nicholas Santini really should’ve listened to his cousin’s stories about how they’re not just thieves, they’re monsters that rise from the dead.

Len smirks.

They’ve gone a long way from the days when Len got kidnapped and Mick got shot trying to rescue him, and Len likes it this way much better.

Not that this solves the problem for good, of course. Sending a member of the actual Family against them meant that the Santinis were taking Len and Mick’s firm no-Family-affiliation freelance position a bit personally, which both wasn't a surprise but was still really annoying. Len’d have to make a point of hitting some Darbyinian targets in the next few months just to make clear that their neutrality was unaffected; that should be enough.

Personally, Len’s just happy that he was able to get Lisa to go out of town after she’d graduated. Now that’d been a fight for the ages – the way this one definitely wasn’t – because Lisa had been reluctant to leave Len even if she didn’t have the same attachment to Central City that he did.

An attachment that she referred to as “idiotic” and “unhealthy”, which it was not. A man can love the city he was raised in, even if that city was objectively a hellhole ripe with corruption, poverty and crime.

Huh, maybe that’s why Len likes it so much. He fits in so well here.

Okay, sure, there’s been the growing number of weird science laboratories getting settled here – Mercury, Star, the whole sheebang – but there’s an army base not far away to serve as clientele, cheap land with very low environmental regulations, and by this point Len’s honestly used to the idea of his slums being used as rich people’s dumping grounds.

He doesn’t like it when they do that, mind you, which is why he robs the rich assholes in charge of bringing toxic dumps to his city more often than he does anyone else, but there’s not much else he can do to express his displeasure.

At any rate, Lisa had managed to get a job offer at one of the most prestigious engineering firms in the country, all the way out in Boston, and that’d gotten her to go when none of Len’s other arguments had worked, if only because Len had refused to let her pass up the opportunity and she’d reluctantly agreed.

Sure, she still visits regularly – Len visit her, too, but he can’t force her not to come to Central – but at least she’s out of the worst of the mob war.

“I swear!” Seriously, is the guy still whining? Honestly, Len’s ashamed of him; he’s born and raised Family, he ought to have a bit of a backbone. They’re not even torturing him! They’re not even threatening to torture him! The worst they’re threatening him with is a bit roughing up! They really don’t make them like they used to, and thank heaven for that. Len’d far rather put up with idiots like little Nicholas here than the big kahunas that his dad swam with when Len was a kid: Don Cesare, Don Giovanni, Don Tomio of the asshole-kid-smashed-up-Len’s-head fame... “I didn’t say anything! I didn’t mean anything!”

"That right?" Mick growls. "'cause I woulda sworn I heard you talking earlier, saying things about Snart here..."

"No!"

"Mick," Len says, finally managing to quash down his amusement enough to sound appropriately stern. "He's not worth wasting your energy on."

"Fine," Mick says, and releases the guy's jacket. "Looks like it's your lucky day. Now go."

The guy goes as quickly as he can manage.

Mick returns to Len's side, now grinning like a loon.

"Was that extra bit entirely necessary?" Len asks, trying not to smile. Mick does so enjoy himself when there are people to push around...

"You know it is," Mick says firmly. "We gotta make clear you’re the one in charge of me, so that your reputation’ll get even more fearsome than mine; that's the only way they'll respect you. Order of operations, boss."

Len shakes his head. It’s not that he isn’t convinced – Mick can be very convincing when he wants to be – but at the same time…

"You'll get in trouble one of these days," he warns, not really meaning it.

Mick snorts. "What's the worst that can happen?" he asks, rolling his eyes ostentatiously. "They gonna kill me?"

They end up shooting him.

Len groans in annoyance.

Not again.

You’d think they’d learn by now.

"I'm thinking of going back for my masters," Lisa says. "Maybe a PhD."

"Really?" Len asks, phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. "I thought you said you were done with school. Straight into the workforce, you said."

"Things were said," she sniffs. “I’m not going to be held responsible for past-Lisa’s statements.”

Len chuckles and steps around the still-cooling corpse on the floor – an ex-associate who'd thought he was above such things as rules. Len squelches the feeling of guilt: the guy had thought he could get away with skimming off the top of the funds they'd collected for the job because he was buddies with Mick, even though Mick'd warned him he wouldn't get any special favors, and then to add insult to injury, when Len'd called him out on it, he'd had the arrogance to try to pull out of the job entirely.

Len's reputation makes it very clear what happens if you're out, and that reputation makes it impossible not to do what he did next.

Still, Len can't help feeling bad about it. He hates killing people – it only adds to the number of ghosts in the world, unless he's lucky, and ghosts of people he killed are always unquiet – but not killing's a luxury he can't afford if he wants to survive in the criminal underworld.

He has to be cold and heartless, just like dear old dad – may he rot in hell or a jail cell, wherever he is now – always said.

Plus, this means he needs to get someone new, and he hates mid-job recruiting.

"If it's what you want, Lise, you should go for it," Len tells her. "You know you don't need my permission."

"I know," she says. "But there's always the matter of money to think about."

"Ahhhh, I see," Len teases. "This is less of an FYI and more of a call to the big brother bank, huh?"

"Actually, I'd been hoping to earn my own way," Lisa replies. "Unfortunately, doing grunt work as a baby engineer in a big company that pays peanuts –" The market for bachelors-only engineers is a tough one, according to Lisa. "— and skating in some ice shows in my spare time only gets me so much."

Len has the sinking feeling he knows what her next comment is going to be. "Lise, I can just give you the money," he points out, trying to forestall the inevitable.

It doesn't help.

"I want in on one of your jobs," she says firmly. "Time for me to earn my own way."

"I've let you in on jobs before," Len protests.

"Sure, in baby jobs," Lisa says. "I know you're planning something big, and I want in."

"I've already collected a crew, Lise."

"Mick says you need a new ringer."

Len stops, affronted, and glares at Mick, who shrugs, clearly well aware of what's being discussed. Undoubtedly why he’s hiding behind a newspaper across the room.

That doesn't make it any less inappropriate. Len literally just shot the guy! How did Mick even find time to tell her?!

"Lise – "

"I can do the job, Lenny. Gimme a chance."

"I know you can do it – " Lisa's one of the natural grifters of this world; Len's always been impressed by her skills. That’s never been his problem. "—the question is, why would you risk a perfectly good, clean record when I can just get you the cash?"

"Oh, please," Lisa scoffs. "You haven't been caught in ages. And if you're feeling particularly paranoid about my record, you can plan me a nice getaway. Ghost-amplified, if necessary."

Len scowls. He still doesn't like it.

"I already owe you so much, Lenny," Lisa continues. "Let me actually help with this one. Please?"

"What's your real motive here?" Len asks, suddenly suspicious. "You like it when I give you gifts."

Lisa sighs.

Hah! Len knew there was another reason.

"I need it for my resume," she finally admits.

Which –

"What? How?"

"Not my work resume, you jerk," Lisa says, sounding amused. "In case I ever need to pull a job, really need to, and you're not around to vouch for me. The Snart name goes a fair way towards it, but nothing substitutes for actual experience – you've said so yourself."

Len grumbles. He has said so, damnit.

"I have the baby jobs you let me help out with," Lisa continues. "One or two big-name heists with notable takes that I can name-drop would let me skip the little leagues, go straight in with the guys that know what they're doing instead of the crappy ones that need to go back to con school –" Meaning prison. "— before they get their act together."

"But why do you need to do crime at all?" Len asks, aware that he's whining. "Lise -"

"Even with your talents, you might get caught one day," Lisa says, her voice suddenly hard. "And if that day comes, when that day comes, I want to be the person you call to help mastermind your escape. Me. I want to be second in line in your phone –"

"You're my first speed-dial, Lise; you know that."

"— second only to Mick."

Well, yes. Len's always going to go to Mick first, but he doesn't need a speed dial for him.

"You know what I meant," Lisa says warningly.

Len sighs. She's not wrong. It would be good to have another person he can rely on, someone he can really trust, especially if it comes to a question of needing to plan an exit route that relies on revealing the full extent of Mick's ghostly abilities. Going temporarily invisible and intangible is incredibly useful for a thief, but Len’s determined to make sure that no one else in the underworld ever figures out what they can do. He’s been threatened too many times to be comfortable with anyone knowing all of his tricks, and his tricks include Mick.

He’s done a good job of it so far, making sure that everyone thought the stories about Mick rising from the dead are just exaggerations, but there will undoubtedly be jobs, or at least prison breaks, where he’ll need to use Mick’s abilities and rely on a crew, and that crew had better be only made up of people he really, truly trusts.

But this is his baby sister.

“Lenny, please,” Lisa wheedles. “It’s important to me. I want you to be able to count on me the way I’ve always counted on you and Mick.”

Well, if she puts it that way, it’s hard to say no.

And, well, they do need a new ringer now that what’s-his-name is no longer going to be available on account of being dead and having passed on…

“Fine,” Len says, giving in with a sigh.

Lisa cheers.

“How long till you can get to Central City?”

“Couple of hours,” she says promptly. “I’m already on my way to the airport.”

Len rolls his eyes. Of course she is.

“Great, I’ll fill you in on the job when you get here,” he says. “You’ll need to be in tip-top grifting to do it, though; it’s going to be a tricky one.”

“A tricky one?” Lisa asks, sounding amused. “Is there something the great thief Leonard Snart, robber of ATMs and breaker of jewelry stores and museums, still considers tricky?”

Just for that, Len’s going to tell her now.

“We’re gonna rob a moving train.”

Lisa laughs.

Len doesn’t.

“…you’re joking, right?”

Len smirks.

“Lenny!”

“I was getting bored with the ATMs and the jewelry stores and the museums,” Len says innocently. “Wanted to up my game a bit. What’s wrong with that?”

“Are you insane? We don’t live in a Western!”

“Now, now, Lisa, you never know when you might need to be able to ride a horse or a fire a six-shooter,” Len says, starting to laugh, his straight face breaking at the tone in her voice.

“Just for that, we’re taking horseback riding lessons with some of the leftover money,” Lisa warns. “You, me, and Mick.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Len lies. How hard can riding a horse be, anyway?

Lisa is still mumbling curses on his name when Len hangs up the phone.

“It go well?” Mick asks, looking up from his newspaper hopefully.

“Yes, Lisa’s joining us for this one,” Len tells him, rolling his eyes again when Mick breaks out into a broad smile. “And afterwards, we’re all going horseback riding.”

The smile disappears.

“…what?” Len asks. “They can’t be that tough.” But he’s uncertain now. Mick’s expression of horror is really convincing.

“We had horses on my farm,” Mick says grimly. “You are not getting on one of those hell-beasts.”

“You know what,” Len says, “I’ll just – let you tell Lisa that when she arrives.”

And then he flees, laughing his head off, because now Mick’s shouting curses after him.

Serves him right, conspiring behind Len’s back like that.

#dccoldwave #mick rory #leonard snart #lisa snart #my fic #deadfic

[ofnina-blog1]

*:・ﾟ✧ ┈ VILLAS TASK #003 › ‘ A FAMILY ANALYSIS ’

oddly enough, nina rarely allows the conversation to linger upon her family. she’s not one to bring up her family and she’s inclined to switch the topic whenever she finds herself in the situation. nina’s family life is nothing extraordinary - there was nothing particularly great about her childhood, but she knows she’s far better off than a lot of other people. her parents’ divorce was undoubtably the most memorable part of growing up and it’s left quite the sore spot. she’s extremely defensive when it comes to her family life and would rather not tell others about the things that went on at home because she doesn’t want to give them an opportunity to form an opinion about anyone in her family. all that being said, click the read more to learn about nina’s jumbled family !

*:・ﾟ✧ ┈ INTRODUCING JIYOON LACROIX  › ‘ NINA’S MOTHER ’

though far from the worst woman in the world, nina and her mother have a bit of a come-and-go relationship. growing up, nina and her mother got along fairly well and all nina aspired to be was a carbon copy of her mother. her mother was smart, successful, and beautiful - she cared for her children, cared for her husband, and seemed happy so far as nina could tell. her mother had a great group of friends both from work and outside of work, always seeming to balance her personal and work life seamlessly. as far as nina was concerned, her mother truly was a superhero, cape and all. however, like most kids, nina grew up and found herself in her moody and temperamental stage. things were tough at school and nina often took it out on her family at home, isolating herself or snapping whenever things weren’t going her way. she still loved her parents and the things she said/did were never all that bad, but perhaps her growing distance from her mother was what allowed her parents’ divorce to come as such a surprise. nina was too focused on school and being the moody teenager that she was to notice the struggles that her parents were going through. it wasn’t until her parents announced the divorce that nina was aware of their issues. it wasn’t until a few months even later that nina learned the real reason behind their divorce - her mother was having an affair and had decided to leave her dad for her new lover. in short, nina was disgusted. nina confronted her mom about it and she admitted that she had been seeing someone else and that she felt awful about the entire thing. she told nina that she didn’t mean for any of it to happen and she just fell out of love with her dad, but clearly that wasn’t the case. her mother wasted no time flaunting her new relationship and even going so far as to move in with her new boyfriend. she made no attempt to hide her relationship for her children’s sake or even her ex-husband’s sake and it was impossible for nina to look at her mother the same. though nina tries, her mom seems to be completely wrapped up in her new life. even when nina finally came out to her mom, the news was upstaged by her mom’s news of her engagement to thomas, her boyfriend. ever since, their relationship has been extremely strained and nina doesn’t talk to her mom the same way she used to. she’s definitely taken her dad’s side in the divorce and much prefers to spend time with him these days.

*:・ﾟ✧ ┈ INTRODUCING MINHYUK JUNG › ‘ NINA’S FATHER ’

speaking of her father, here’s nina’s dad ! nina’s dad is truly the cutest man in the entire world and he might be nina’s favorite person. like her mother, nina’s dad was quite the guy and always made things look so easy. he was always the happiest person in the room and spent his days chasing nina and her sister around the house or dressing up in princess costumes because the girls begged him to. his family was ( and still is ) the most important thing he has and it showed. he was known for his jokes and the ways in which he would playfully tease his daughters, a trait that made nina extremely close and comfortable with her dad. he was the person that she could tell anything to because she knew he’d never get mad at her or try to punish her, but instead he’d listen and give her advice when she needed it most. he was her support system and her rock, essentially. he taught her everything from how to fish to how to listen to her gut. though nina is far from being a perfect person, all of the positive qualities she has come from her father. that being said, the divorce was especially hard on nina’s dad. being left by the love of his life, nina’s dad found it nearly impossible to hide his heartbreak from his kids. even years later, nina’s dad has yet to date someone new despite watching his ex-wife move on immediately and remarry the man for whom she left him. ( tw: depression ) although never formally diagnosed, nina’s dad has undeniably become depressed. the man who once oozed with a lust for life now spends his days trapped within his own thoughts, unable to bring himself to perform daily tasks most of the time. he’s become numb to the world around him, his daughter’s presences oftentimes being the only thing that puts a smile on his face. nina does her best to remind her dad of the things he loves, to play cards with him after dinner or to bring him out fishing on a beautiful summer day, but there’s only so much the girl can do. despite countless attempts to encourage him to seek help, her dad merely isn’t ready and nina is in no position to push him. it breaks nina’s heart to see her father so different from the man who raised her, but she knows he’s still the same guy beneath it all and he just needs a little more time to heal. nina feels awful about leaving her dad at home while she’s in hawaii, but she makes sure to talk to him as often as she can and she’s already started to plan a visit for him.

*:・ﾟ✧ ┈ INTRODUCING ISABELLA JUNG › ‘ NINA’S SISTER ’

the biggest pain in her ass, but also the love of nina’s life. nina’s little sister is five years younger, making her sixteen at the moment. nina and her sister have always more or less gotten along, the typical sibling fights never turning into anything deeper than than. ever since isa was born, nina has looked at her sister as her baby. even when isa was just a baby, nina would jokingly tell her mother than she was isa’s mother and that isa was her baby, not her mom’s. from sneaking into her room in the middle of the night to shutting her hair in the car door, the two don’t have an extraordinarily unique relationship. they tease each other, they love each other, they’d do anything for each other, and that’s about it. the only thing that truly puts a wedge between them at times is their parental preference. while isa lives with their mother most of the time, nina lives with their father whenever she’s home. isa still loves their dad and comes to stay with them on weekends or on various other occasions, but isa hasn’t cut their mom off in the same way that nina did. things get a little tense and awkward when isa tries to coax nina into spending time with her mom, but after numerous arguments, the two have learned to avoid the topic in order to preserve their own relationship.

*:・ﾟ✧ ┈ INTRODUCING THE LACROIXS › ‘ NINA’S STEP-FAMILY ’

after the divorce, nina’s mom was quick to advance her relationship with her boyfriend. it didn’t take long for her mom and her boyfriend, thomas, to get engaged, and within a year and a half the pair were married. the marriage meant a new step-father, thomas, and two younger step-brothers, carter and jason. while there’s nothing fundamentally wrong with her step-family, nina certainly resents them for reasons tied to the divorce. it’s impossible for her to look at her step-family without being reminded of how her mother broke her father’s heart without a second thought. any and all of the lacroixs’ attempts to grow closer and bond with nina leave a sour taste in her mouth and she thinks its unlikely that she’ll ever truly let the family into her heart. her step-brothers are annoying at best and as far as she’s concerned, she already has a brother.

*:・ﾟ✧ ┈ INTRODUCING GRAHAM CHOI › ‘ NINA’S BROTHER ’

although all of the choi family is practically nina’s extended family, graham has always been especially important to nina. being close in age, the two were destined to grow up together due to their parent’s friendship and nina has spent countless holidays, parties, and events with graham by her side. teasing and arguing have always been a staple of their relationship, but that doesn’t dismiss the fact that graham is as important to her as a real sibling. she’s never known how to express her emotions or communicate her feelings, so perhaps it’s better that the two act the way they act. anytime the girl looks back on her life thus far, graham has been there. the two have watched each other grow up and seen each other transform into the people that they are today. as annoyed as she may seem by his presence, the girl will always be grateful for his influence on her life. from diapers to the pythons, nina has seen graham change into someone that she truly respects and admires and she can’t imagine taking on the next stage of her life without him. though it’ll take her another five years before she admits it, she’s proud of him and she kinda’ loves him and he’ll always be the only brother she needs in her life ( even if she does like nia more ).

#villatasks004 #my hair went Gray writing this nd . i #was gna do replies but a bin ch is Tired so those will b done ? tm #anyway let's not talk abt the graphic aha . the graphic ? idk Her

[spadedheartsxblackjack-blog]

❤≡☂♣

≡ = offering a place to stay overnight 

It was getting late…really late, and BlackJack had just finished tearing down after their most recent live. It went so well and she was absolutely exhausted. Violet and Mazumi were already on their way out with the two seniors from Akatsuki. They had gotten really close with Keito and Kuro, and she wanted them both to be happy. They had asked her if she needed anything before they left for the night, and she of course said no. All she wanted was the longest nap in history. “We’ll see you at home, Aika-chan.”

Waving goodbye for now, she looked around for her things. She yawned, stretching and after she had gotten out of the live clothes and into those comfy practice hoodies and pants…she felt much better. Aika was still tired but at least she was comfy! It wasn’t too long after her older sister and Mazumi left that she saw Chiaki approaching her. Waving a bit sleepily, she smiled. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

He gave her that bright and sunny smile and a tight hug to go along with it. She squeezed back, already feeling revitalized. He just had this way of giving energy wherever he went, like a portable sun. “You performed so well! I’m sure you left the audience speechless!”

She blushed, rocking on her heels a bit before making eye contact again. His eyes just sparkled with excitement and happiness, and it just made her night so much better. “Thank you! We tried really hard, and I’m not sure if I could do that again for a while. I’m tired…”

“A hero’s duty is to help those in need! Let me walk you home.”

Her fingers were soon laced with his, making their way off school grounds and toward where she lived. They took a few detours, naturally, because she didn’t really want to part ways with him so soon. And she thought that he felt the same way. They talked almost endlessly about anything and everything, and it was a reason she never wanted to leave. He always had so much to say, and she loved it. Eventually the walking was starting to get to be too much, and she yawned again.

“Aika-chan, do you want to stay over? There’s this new tokusatsu show on tomorrow morning and I think you’d really like it! What do you say?!” Those eyes…she just couldn’t get over how eager and excited he was. She was stunned, more so than usual. Squeezing his hand a little, she nodded.

“I’d really like that! I’m sure Vivi-chan and Mazu-kun would like the house to themselves anyway. Thank you~.” She couldn’t help but shove down the excited giggles. This was going to be awesome. “You’re the best, Superhero.”

☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm

Fall was one of her favorite times of the year for a lot of reasons. There was the seasonal drinks, the changing of the leaves, and of course she got to wear her favorite jackets on the way home. She was sitting outside after school waiting for her sister to get done talking with somebody about something. Violet never gave her much information, just that she’d be back later after taking care of something.

She was humming, drawing in her sketchbook some designs for a stage that Mazumi had suggested as something they could collaborate with Akatsuki on for a joint live. She didn’t have very many details, just ‘something that looked dope’. Sighing, she began sketching the basics.

Even though she had taken one of her jackets with her, she was still a little cold since the wind was picking up a little. Frowning, she shifted positions so her legs were crossed under her and she could put most of her arm weight on the pages so they stopped blowing and messing up her lines.

Surprises were everywhere today, and soon her favorite superhero was sitting next to her, looking at her drawings. Almost instictively, her head leaned over to rest on his shoulder, smiling as her hand continued to create the stage on her paper. “Your nose is all red!”

“Huh?” It took her a minute, but it was probably because she was cold. Her nose always did that, even when it was just a little bit chilly. “Oh! It’s probably because I’ve been outside drawing in the wind and stuff. I’m okay though!”

It wasn’t like that was going to stop Chiaki though. She looked up to see him shifting to take off his jacket, and she blinked a little bit. Yeah but wouldn’t he get cold. “You should wear this! I’m a little too warm anyway, and you look cold.” Well she couldn’t argue with that.

Moving the sketchbook out of the way for a minute, she took it from his hands, slipping it on and my god…it was the warmest thing ever. She wanted to just bury herself in it, and Aika couldn’t help but do just that…only a little. “Aaaahhhh, it’s so warm~. But won’t you get cold?” 

She picked up the sketchbook again, snuggling up against his shoulder. “Nope! I’m like a portable heater, so I don’t usually get cold fwuahaha!” His laugh always made her smile, and she was nuzzling into the super warm and comfy jacket, that smelled a lot like him.

“You smell nice by the way…”

♣ = discovering them crying

Aika knew that this day would be coming, but that didn’t mean she was any more prepared for it. Sure…she would still see her sister and ‘brother’ at home…but her school life would be so empty without them. And on top of that…it meant Chiaki was leaving too. And she wasn’t prepared for any of this to happen so fast.

Graduation ceremony was drawing closer and closer, and with the days that passed…it was harder to keep her positive attitude. It wasn’t the end of the world, but losing so many close people at school…it was going to be hard. She had spent more and more of her time on the terrace, drawing landscapes and cityscapes to try and take her mind off the impending ceremony.

It was hard…so hard…and she just couldn’t do it anymore. Aika was on the terrace again, as usual, but she wasn’t drawing this time. She had placed her head on one of the tables, silent tears coming down her face. It was embarrassing, to be crying like this on the terrace but no one else was up here and she couldn’t hold it in anymore. No matter how hard she tried to shove it down…it just kept coming back stronger.

Lifting her face from the table, she wiped her eyes with her jacket sleeve, sniffling and trying to stop the tears but nothing worked. Sounds of footsteps were echoing in her ears, and she had to think of something before somebody found her. But it was all too late for her, because Chiaki was all but bounding across the terrace, probably looking for her.

“Aika-chan…what’s wrong?! Are you hurt?”

She shook her head no, wiping off her face some more. “N-no…well n-not like that. I…I j-just…not ready for graduation…” She tried to hide her face, but apparently Chiaki wasn’t having any of that. He took her hands, holding them and giving her this sympathetic smile.

“Ah…I didn’t think of that!” He paused, looking away for a minute, but turned his attention back to her. She was still blinking tears, and it was making it hard to see. “Don’t worry Aika-chan, I’m not gone forever, just from school! We’ll still get to see each other even though I’m not here! A hero always answers the call!”

She smiled, still sniffling and probably looking awful but he probably didn’t even care. “Th-thank you…s-sorry about th-this…”

“Don’t be sorry! I should have known that this was the reason you’ve been so upset lately. Call for me whenever you need me, okay?!”

She all but jumped up off the chair she was in, tackling him into a hug, hiding her face some more. She nodded, and pretty soon she was all wrapped up in those hugs she’d grown so fond of. He was right, he wasn’t gone forever. She’d still see him. And suddenly, the world wasn’t quite so dim after all.

❤ = kissing them

Chiaki Morisawa had stolen her heart and she never wanted it back.

Aika and Chiaki had been out on the town for a date that day. It was the weekend and neither of their units were involved in any lives coming up, which was the first time in nearly two months. They had been trying to work something out for so long, but things just kept coming up. But finally, after many rescheduled plans, they were here now roaming around downtown.

She was holding his hand, swinging it lightly as she rambled about this cute little craft store that she really liked to go to down here. They had spend the entire afternoon and part of the evening there, and after a few shopping stops, they decided to have dinner somewhere.

It was amazing. The entire day she hadn’t stopped smiling once. It was easy to hang around with him, even if they weren’t doing anything, just his company was enough for her. After one of the best dates she’d had, they were leaving the restaurant and walking toward the bridge just outside the marketplace.

The twilight was covering the market in a beautiful orange glow. The sunlight was bouncing off the water under the small bridge they were on, and she was looking down at the sun’s reflection. Interlocked hands were draped over the railing, and her eyes wandered back to his face.

He looked so radiant in the sunset, and she didn’t even notice how close they were until the distance was growing shorter. It seemed like they both knew what they wanted, but neither of them were making any sort of progress on getting there. Emerald eyes now half closed with her heartbeat nearly drowning in her ears, her anticipation was nearly killing her. Would he do it? Should she do it? What was supposed to...

Her thoughts stalled as the radiant hero closed the final distance with a soft kiss. She held his hand tightly unsure about what to do with the other one. The movements were soft, gentle, almost intoxicating in all the right ways. Aika was returning the soft kiss, heart nearly beating out of her chest. Her face ignited to what she swore was probably as bright as the red on the jacket he gave her a few days ago.

It was quick, but it felt like hours. Her heart rate was racing, and she could barely think straight. He had kissed her...like really kissed her. Gentle fingers from his free hand came to move some of the fluffy brown hair out of her face, and that only made the red worse. She was biting her lip, but she was smiling...and so was he with that ever positive smile that could chase away the night. There didn’t need to be any exchanges of words, just the comforting feeling of standing there in front of him, nuzzling herself into his chest. The perfect superhero...my only superhero...

#Sunlight Hearts: AiChia #Stacked Deck: answered #Card Queen: Aika #((I love all of these so much holy HECKIE)) #((thank u kasa aaaaaAAAAAAAA)) #crimsonrevolu5tar #((THESE ARE SO LONG OH MY CHRIST))

[theartofbeinganerd]

I love baby Evelyn! you're still doing prompts, could you do Evelyn meeting the team for the first time? That would be adorable!

Thanks for the prompt!! 

(Ao3)

-

“I can’t believe this is still the Playground,” Jemmacommented in awe as she and Fitz crossed the renovated hangar of SHIELD’s mainbase, Evelyn cradled against her hip. Their three month old daughter was takingeverything in with wide eyes, which currently seemed to be locked on theZephyr. Bending to kiss the top of Evelyn’s head, she murmured, “Your daddydesigned that plane, Evie. Aren’t you so proud of him?”

Fitz chuckled lightly at that, even as he eyed the Zephyrfor himself. “You know…I think I might talk to Mack about some upgrades…”

Jemma gave him a stern look as she reminded him, “We’re herefor a holiday, Fitz; have youforgotten the definition of the word ‘retired’?”

“Okay, yeah, but…” When Jemma’s expression didn’t change, heall-but pouted, pleading, “Just a quick look at the engine?”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully, then sighed. “Oh alright,fine. But just the engine!”

“You’ve got it, Jem!” He pressed a quick, grateful kiss to hertemple, and Jemma rolled her eyes fondly, not bothering to hide her smile. Theypassed through the hangar doors then, entering into the main section of thebase – only to find Daisy waiting anxiously on the other side.

“Oh, Happy Thanksgiving, Daisy!” Jemma greeted, smilingwidely at the sight of their friend. It’d been far too long since they’d seeneach other, what with Daisy being busy with the Secret Warriors and saving theworld, while Jemma and Fitz had been busy with settling into their cottage inPerthshire then taking care of Evelyn.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Daisy replied absently, immediatelyswiping Evelyn from her arms. “Oh my goshyou’re just the cutest thing ever, aren’t you?” she cooed, ignoring Fitz andJemma almost completely in favor of Evelyn. “Oh yes you are. With those big blue eyes and that curly hair and your cutelittle nose! That’s it, I’m justgonna have to steal you away from your parents, yes I am, yes I am.”

Arching an eyebrow, Fitz turned to Jemma and said in a stagewhisper, “Told you we should’ve named your sister as her godmother instead.”

Finally, Daisy lifted her gaze from Evelyn to give Fitz a displeasedlook. “Oh? Would Jemma’s sister havethe best present in the world for Evelyn?”

“You didn’t have to get her anything,” Jemma assured her,even as she took the gift bag Daisy had had sitting at her feet from her.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to.” Beaming excitedly, Daisy watchedas she removed the tissue paper and revealed…a little black baby dress coveredin white daisies. “I bought her one in every size, so she’ll never grow out ofit! And of course, now she’ll never forget about her superhero godmother.”

“Oh Daisy, we’d never let her forget about you,” Jemma promised,tucking the dress back into the gift bag and taking a couple of their bags fromFitz now that her hands were free. Daisy shot her a grateful smile, then ledthe way further into the base.

They hadn’t gotten far when they ran into Mack and Elena,and Fitz called to him, “Hey, I’m all set to help cook up a feast SHIELD willnever forget.”

Mack grinned as they closed the remaining distance betweenthem. “Thanks Turbo – but first, I need to get a good look at this cutie.” Hetook Evelyn from a reluctant Daisy, nearly engulfing her in his large hands andarms.

Laughing, Elena commented, “You make her look so little.” She reached out, picking up oneof Evelyn’s hands, beaming as the tiny fingers curled around her index finger. Turningto Fitz and Jemma, she told them warmly, “She is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Jemma said with an answering smile. Mack gaveEvelyn a little bounce, and she gave a big, gummy smile in response.

“Looks like she likes you,” Daisy pointed out. “But not asmuch as she likes me, obviously.”

Chuckling, Fitz teased, “It’s probably just because he’s agiant version of her favorite teddy bear.”

With a dashing grin, Mack told them, “Naw, kids just loveme.” Elena stroked her thumb over the back of Evelyn’s hand, sharing a loadedglance with Mack. After a moment, he cleared his throat and turned to handEvelyn back to a waiting Daisy. “We should probably go get dinner started,Turbo.”

“Yeah, good thinking,” Fitz agreed, and as Mack and Elenaheaded back to the kitchen, he asked to Jemma, “Are you okay with getting thebags to our room?”

“I’ll help her,” Daisy volunteered, taking one from him andslinging it over her free shoulder.

As Jemma took the other, Fitz gave Evelyn a little kiss onthe forehead, promising, “Daddy will see you soon, Evie. Be good for Mummy,”before he hurried off to catch up with the other two.

Daisy then led the way toward the residential wing and theroom Jemma and Fitz would be staying in during their visit. She couldn’t seemto help herself from saying slyly, “Well, I know who’s having the next baby.”

“Oh, I hope it’s soon,” Jemma mused, her eyes wide withdelight at the idea, “then Evelyn could be friends with their baby!”

“Given those looks they were giving each other, I’d say you’relikely going to get your wish,” Daisy replied with an amused snort.

They arrived at the room then, and Jemma dropped off thebags as Daisy excitedly showed her the crib the team had apparently purchasedas a surprise for them (and likely, as a bid to get them to visit more). Shealso took the chance to quickly change Evelyn’s diaper – or rather, she talked Daisythrough it, since she was so dead set on taking Evelyn and raising her herself.

And of course, they changed Evelyn into the daisy dress ather insistence, and Jemma had to admit it did look adorable (though she tendedto think anything her daughter wore was adorable, because well, she wasbiased).

Once that was finished, they headed back out into thehallway, only to run into Coulson moments later. He paused at the sight ofthem, smiling in greeting, and Daisy asked, “Hey Couslon, are you ready to meetthe world’s cutest baby?”

Coulson gave a little chuckle as he replied, “Well, I’mwearing my least favorite tie in case of spit-up, so I’m as prepared as I’llever be, I suppose.” He tapped his tie, which was a rather unflattering burntorange color, then took Evelyn from Daisy. “Hi Evelyn,” he murmured to her, hislips curving in a gentle smile when she gazed back at him with wide, curiouseyes. “Are you going to grow up and save the world like your parents?”

“No offense, sir,” Jemma started a bit uncomfortably, “butwe’re rather hoping that Evelyn stays outof the family business – I’m not sure poor Fitz and I have the nerves for that.”

Not seeming offended in the least, Coulson offered her anunderstanding grin. “That’s probably for the best. But, perhaps, she’ll find aless dangerous way to help save theworld; if anyone could do it, it’d be the child of Fitzsimmons.”

“You’re probably right,” she admitted with a quiet laugh.

At that moment, an agent Jemma didn’t recognize came up tothem, and told Coulson lowly, “Sir, we need your input on the Beijing mission.”

Coulson sighed good-humoredly, handing Evelyn over to hermother. “Even on a holiday, my work’s never done. I’ll see you both at dinner.”With that, he followed the agent back down the hall.

Left with a bit of free time before dinner, Daisy showed Jemmaaround the base, since she and Fitz had left around the time the renovationshad really begun. They toured the area where the Secret Warriors trained, andthe new lab (built based on Fitz and Jemma’s designs, of course), before endingup in the new common room.

While Daisy was catching her up on the current goings-on atSHIELD, Jemma lightly rocked a sleepy Evelyn, though they both glanced up whenMay entered the room. “May! Come meet Evelyn,” Daisy called quietly, waving herover.

May paused for a moment in the doorway, then wordlesslymoved to perch on the couch beside Jemma, gazing down at Evelyn. “You can holdher, if you’d like,” Jemma offered, “she just tends to cry if she’s this tiredand isn’t being held by me or Fitz.” Still, she carefully passed Evelyn over,who began to work herself up for a good cry almost instantly.

However, then May adjusted her hold, and Evelyn simplystopped, blinking slowly up at her. Then, she seemed to decide that she wasperfectly content, and settled right in.

Giving a surprised little laugh, Jemma admitted, “Well, that’scertainly a first; you’re a natural, May.” In acknowledgment, May simply gave aslight smile, gently rocking Evelyn back and forth and watching as she closedher little eyes and gave into sleep. It was quiet for a moment, then she said, “Ican take her back if she’s too heavy, otherwise you may be here for awhile.”

“She’s fine,” May replied lowly, shaking her head.

There was another beat of silence, then Daisy asked Jemma, “Whydon’t we help go set the table?”

“Alright,” Jemma agreed easily. As she stood up to followDaisy out of the room, she reminded May, “If you need anything, I’ll be rightdown the hall.”

After May had nodded in understanding and the two had leftthe room, Daisy said suddenly, “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“What doesn’t?” Jemma asked in confusion, glancing back overher shoulder toward the common room as though that would somehow make itclearer.

“That May’s like…the baby whisperer,” she elaborated. “Like…Evelynstill loves me too and would totally want to live with me if you guys died, right?”

Jemma rolled her eyes fondly, giving a little shake of herhead as she teasingly placated her, “YesDaisy, if Fitz and I died, living with you would be our three month olddaughter’s first choice.”

“Good,” Daisy replied, grinning, and with anotherexaggerated roll of her eyes, Jemma elbowed her lightly in the ribs.

It wasn’t long after that they were all sitting down toThanksgiving dinner at the large table that had been set up in the base’s newdining hall. Throughout the meal, a happily cooing Evelyn found herself as thecenter of attention, constantly passed around the table – though no one reallyseemed about to argue when May took sole possession of her. She held her forthe rest of the meal, not even flinching when a curious Evelyn stuck a hand inher mashed potatoes and make a mess that had both Fitz and Jemma blushing andstumbling out apologies – she simply wiped it up and carried on eating herdinner.

At the end of the night, after they’d all sat aroundcatching up and laughing over all memories, May finally handed a half-asleepEvelyn to Fitz. She gave them both a nod as she said, “She’s wonderful. You’revery fortunate to have her.”

“We know,” Jemma replied warmly, managing to catch May’shand to give it a brief squeeze. “You’re welcome to see her whenever you’dlike, you know.”

“Thank you.” Though May’s lips only quirked up the tiniestbit, Jemma could tell just how much it truly meant to her.  

As they then said goodnight to the room at large, Daisyhurried over to pop a little kiss on the top of Evelyn’s head, whispering, “Ilove you most.”

Fitz lifted one of Evelyn’s arms, having her give a littlewave as he called once more, “Good night.”

“And Happy Thanksgiving,” Jemma added.

As the others bid them good night, Fitz readjusted his gripon Evelyn, her head lolling against his shoulder, then they headed back totheir room. While Fitz put on his pajamas, Jemma changed Evelyn’s diaper. Shethen handed her off to Fitz to put down for the night while she got dressed aswell; after the past couple of months, the teamwork was practically routine.

When they could finally climb into bed, Jemma automatically curledup against Fitz and said thoughtfully as her gaze landed on the crib, “Youknow, we really should try to visit more.”

“Yeah,” Fitz agreed with a nod, “I mean, Evie seemed toreally love meeting everyone – almost as much as everyone loved meeting her. Itreally was great to see.”

She laughed softly, slinging an arm across his waist and restingher cheek on his chest as she murmured, “Yes, well, they are as good as her family, if you’ll remember.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss toher forehead. “Oh, I remember; they make it a bit difficult to forget, don’tthey?”

Burying her face in his chest to hide the amused quirk ofher lips, Jemma groaned, “Ugh Fitz.”

“Don’t ‘ugh Fitz’ me, you know I’m right.” The smirk in hisvoice was obvious. “Every single one of them has been a right pain in the ass atleast once over the years.”

Levering herself up onto her elbow, Jemma arched an amusedeyebrow at him through the darkness of the room. “Well of course – that’s howyou know they’re family. You’re a constant pain in my ass and I married you, so it must be true.” She pecked his lipsonce, then settled back in against his chest.

“Wait –”

“Go to sleep, Fitz.”

There was a beat, then he grumbled, “Fine.”

“And Fitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Even though you’re a pain my ass, I love you.”

He let out a quiet laugh, then murmured, “I love you too,Jem.”

#shayna writes #fsfic #fitzsimmons #prompts #playground fam #team as a family #baby fitzsimmons #i should probably just have a tag for evelyn by now lmaooo #Anonymous